


Dragon Heart: A Trilogy

by ThePorcelainPony



Category: Daenerys Targaryen - Fandom, Dany/Jon - Fandom, Jon Snow - Fandom, Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen - Fandom, Jorah/Daenerys, Jorah/Dany - Fandom, Tyrion Lannister - Fandom, jorah mormont - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Age Difference, Angst, Comfort, Courtly Love, Dragons, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Game of Thrones - Freeform, Hurt, Knight, Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Mature Love, Queen - Freeform, Red Keep, Romance, Unrequited Love, Westeros, non-cannon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-01-09 06:11:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePorcelainPony/pseuds/ThePorcelainPony
Summary: As Daenerys Targaryen sits on the iron throne, she realizes how becoming queen of Westeros is just the first of the many more complications she has to face. She is yet to learn the inside politics, the path to non-violent decision makings,settling a compromise with common men, and most importantly: learning to listen to her heart over what she wants when it comes to love and duty.Jorah/Dany





	1. The Knight from Bear Island

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The world and characters of Game of Thrones are owned by George R.R. Martin alone. While this fan fiction is loosely based and inspired from the TV show and only a little from the books, I have disregarded the plot involving the White Walkers. Cersei and the rest of the Lannisters have been defeated, Daenerys currently sits on the Iron Throne and is yet to meet the King in the North, Jon Snow. Also, SPOILERS.

 

_“You have a good claim: a title, a birthright. But you have something more than that: you may cover it up and deny it, but you have a gentle heart. You would not only be respected and feared, you would be loved. Someone who can rule and should rule. Centuries come and go without a person like that coming into the world. There are times when I look at you, and I still can't believe you're real.” —Jorah Mormont (The Ghost of Harrenhal; Season 2, Episode 5)_

__~_ _

"You don't approve" The side of her lip rose a fragment. It wasn't an inquiry, but a mere observation of the look Jorah has given her when she told him about her plan to marry a Westerosi Lord.

Daenerys Stormborn sat on the iron throne with the absence of her Unsullied and Dothraki men milling about in every corridor. She has heard every proposition of every Lord coming from every part of the Seven Kingdoms, asking for her hand in marriage and promising her their allegiance in turn. She has heard every counsel from Tyrion who had asked her to proceed with caution, Varys who asked her to exercise an alliance with a well-respected Lord to prove to the people how she is a foreigner no longer and Missandei, who has reminded her time and time again to never forget what was easily overlooked, which was to follow her heart.

The only counsel she hasn't heard was from the one she truly wanted to listen to: from her oldest and truest friend. She was hoping to acquire more wisdom and perhaps hear a different answer. He had just arrived from one of her biddings a couple of hours ago and she has summoned him here alone, to hear what he had to say about the matter.

"Your Grace, I—"

She watched the knight fortify his footing by shifting a little. A sign of discomfort, but also a great pause for him to choose his reply wisely. She knew that he knew—after a long time of service to her—that she had a fiery dragon heart. And no matter and wherever, there will always be a silent rumble within her, waiting to be let out when the moment calls for it. Ser Jorah Mormont has learned to tread carefully, even more so now.

"This isn't about my approval" he finally says, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "I merely have my concerns. For your safety, of course as well as the legitimacy of the Lord you are going to marry. Who can you trust? And Will he guarantee his loyalty and swear never to betray you?"

The rumbling in her chest began to rise slowly. She stood up from her throne and paced back and forth in front of him, her brows knotted. "So I should __not__ marry? Is that what you're trying to say?"

His long silence made her look at him. "Is this what you would have me do, Jorah?"

Just as he learned to read her temperament after so long, she too had acquired knowledge on how to read his sullen silences and jaw clenchings. She had learned a long time ago how he is in love with her, like a distressed knight falling at the heels of a maiden from one of her books, except that this wasn't it, really. The bear was many years older, seasoned with experience. The prominent lines on his forehead always told her how tough it has been to have survived such rigorous years of fighting. But it also spoke of wisdom, valuable counsel and far better knowledge of all things worldly that she could only hope to know.

She stopped in front of him, a foot shorter. His gaze faltered when their eyes met. She can read loyalty, respect, honor and pride. But she has also gotten good at reading the intentions he tried so hard to bury beneath. The desire, love and tenderness of a man who has long known he could never acquire the woman he wants. Sometimes she was distracted by it. He had no idea of course, that every time he served her these looks , a small part of her squirmed. Not with discomfort, but of something she cannot dare name. It was a forbidden secret at the back of her mind, somewhere no one can know.

"What I want" he finally spoke, his eyes full of resolve as it found hers once again "is nothing but your happiness, My queen"

"No" she said, ignoring his declaration of selflessness. She has grown to feign impassiveness when he wanted to please her. " _ _What I want__ and __what I need__ are entirely different. I want to know what I should do instead. You don't think I should trust any of these Lords?"

He bowed his head to acknowledge this "Aye. These Lords have known a different leader for a long time. Their loyalties change to who is favorable. And at the moment, you seem not to give them a choice but to bend the knee. And they do so with skepticism but also fear. And with fear, comes distrust. These Lords might only lust for the power, as is usually the case. Not to mention the ownership of your dragons"

"But isn't it better to have one ally who has been a son of this land since his name day?" she argued

"It __is__  better" he said, "But one thing you could do is to assess. You have once told me that marriage is the easiest form of alliance and I agree, but it is of importance to wait and see who could guarantee you the most solid alliance in all of the seven kingdoms"

"Lord Tyrion has told me about The King in the North, Jon Snow. A bastard son who has earned his title by being one and true with his people" she said, pacing again, feeling his eyes on her back. "Do you think he's good enough, then?"

"An honorable man" he conceded, "The northerners always live as simply as they could and a man like Jon Snow might not want the title of King in the South. But of course, Your grace, it would be foolish to reject a marriage alliance of this magnitude."

She did not like the tone of his voice. He didn't sound like him. He sounded as if his response was being read from a scroll written by a stranger. She expected better of him.

"So you will have no objections if I invite him to the Red Keep to discuss a marriage alliance?"

He sighed before looking back at her eyes, which were stormy with contemplation. It was clear to her that it pained him to answer such a question. His forehead is pinched and his jaw was tight, almost in despair. Her knight clearly did not want anymore part of this conversation and her constant push for his counsel was the only thing keeping him from turning his back on her and walking out.

"Your grace—"

"Answer me. Will he be a good king to the people and a good enough king for me?"

Her knight was troubled. Truly and utterly. He looked at the floor "I'm afraid no one will ever be good enough for you, my queen"

She walked back to him, noting how his shoulders drooped and his fingers lay limp at his sides, no longer resting at the hilt of his sword. This was the stance of resignation. And she could read his face, how his heart broke in a million pieces once again. She will never tell him how sometimes he was the reason why she is up all night, staring at the canopy on her bed. What was it that she felt? Guilt? He knew she could never return his affection the way he wanted her to.

She believes her relationship with Jorah was far more complicated. It transcends the childish love she had envisioned with a handsome stranger prince. She loves him, that she does. But she worries about all the things that the word entailed. She herself doesn't know where it starts and ends, and what was allowable for her to love about him. He has been the most loyal and valuable ally from the start when she had nothing but her name. No dragons, no army, a dead husband and no people who believed in her. It was always just him starting from the very beginning. This was why he held a very special place in her heart. But of course she was the queen, and she would rather fall from mounting her dragon than admit this simple fact out loud in the open.

Danaerys placed her palm against the rough stubble on his cheek. He flinched at her touch but didn't move away.

"You know how much I value your counsel, ser Jorah" she said "Will you allow me this moment of tenderness for you?"

"Yes"

She kissed him on the cheek. When she withdrew her face to look at him with a fresh pair of eyes, his were closed, as if savoring the moment. "You just told me how no one is good enough. You are too kind ser. But I believe that it is time for me to be with someone again. It has been far too long and a queen would do well with a good king"

He acknowledged this with the briefest of smiles.

"So I repeat my question to you, Will Lord Jon Snow be good enough?"

She waited. It was simply a yes. One syllable of shy lip movement. But instead of putting her mind at ease that she was doing the right thing, he then said, "You ask too much of me, My queen. I am, but just one of your advisors. Perhaps you could ask Tyrion Lannister for his counsel as he is more familiar with the Lord you speak of"

She stepped back, taken aback.

"So it is true then, you do not approve for me to give my hand to a Westerosi Lord? Even if many have claimed him to be honorable and trustworthy?"

"No" he said, his voice clear and final "not in the immediate future, I do not. I believe that you need to prove to the people how capable you are at ruling on your own. You have to succeed in  improving the lives of those under your rule without the immediate influence of a Lord or succumbing to a marriage alliance. This is the way for you to earn their trust and genuine support"

This of course made perfect sense to her. And he has done it again, making her see a different angle that she would have missed had she not asked for his advice. "You have given me a lot to think about" she returned to her throne and regarded him with leveled eyes.

"I hope that I have given you all the advice you needed, my queen. You do have a lot to think about regarding the welfare of the people but you also need to be careful"

It was her jaw's turn to clench out of frustration because he was giving her one of his looks. Sometimes it made her feel like a child being chastised by an adult. She was no longer a child, she wanted to yell out even if it made her sound like a petulant cub. She had to grow up very quickly to learn the ways of a queen. But what did it matter what he thought? It was still her say, that was final. He was just one of her many advisors.

__And yet, he was the most loyal and succinct._ _

"And are you speaking entirely out of concern for me as queen?” she challenged, her fingers clenched tightly on her lap “Or as a woman that you see?"

"Your grace?" He blinked, surprised

“Do you advise me as your queen or as a woman?”

He __was__  taken aback. He took a step forward and kneeled before her. "Wherever it is I speak from... is a place of loyalty, service and devotion from a knight"

 _ _A knight to a queen or a woman?__  She wanted to ask. But she didn't want to torment him any longer.

"Very well. Thank you for your counsel" she said through clenched teeth, unsatisfied with his answer"Leave me be"

She could almost hear his sigh of relief just by the slight movement of his shoulders. He gave her one last look, one last bow of his head and one last "My queen" before leaving with the rustle of his sword in her wake.

 

~

 

She has not spoken to him for days.

There was a crime outbreak from Flea Bottom. Night by night, factions of food were stolen by unsuspected men. People from the area were beginning to live in scarcity and no one dared speak to her about this because of their fear of being burned. Men from the City Watch were slain and their bodies rotting and exposed out on the streets, yet not one Westerosi has dared walked up these steps to tell her of their concern.

This has gotten her visibly upset. She had wanted to storm off to flea bottom with an army and tell off her subjects that she would never burn people whose prime goal is to put food on the table for their families. Rather, she wanted to ride on Drogon and tell them how she has perfect control of her children and would never burn those who are not at fault.

She was not a Mad Queen.

Tyrion had advised her against it immediately. "I don't think striking back with anger for their fearful assumptions is the correct step in making them trust you. You want peace and prosperity, don't you My Queen?"

"With all my heart" she nodded solemnly "yes"

"Then I suggest that you invite them in the castle ground and hear about their problem. Show no dragons, and show no hostility from your unsullied and Dothraki"

That was what she did. She cleared her entire day, tried to forget about the despair of her knight at the idea of her marriage alliance, and listened to the people from Flea Bottom. From the smiths to the wine-sellers, merchants and traders. One by one, farmers and fishermen and humble families who had been living in poverty under the old queen's rule began to speak before her.

"I will ask my guards to distribute food and water factions to every single household. I will double what all the market has lost and guarantee not to leave your streets unguarded. I will distribute my men and ask them to guard every street and corner, as well as the food stocks. Any threat and violence, stolen food and drink done by an individual or group will be arrested and subject to a hearing" Tyrion was at her side, giving her a nod of approval. She continued, "And once proven guilty: death"

When the people from Flea Bottom were appeased and her castle doors were closed, she sat back in the Great Hall, exhausted. What she had done today drained her mentally.

"Shall I ask them to draw a bath for you, My Queen?" asked Missandei, who had given her a sympathetic look.

"Yes. Make sure the water is warm"

She retired to her quarters and asked Missandei to accompany her. There was a lot in her mind and a conversation with her might help ebb it away.

She undid the ropes that knitted her robes together just as Missandei removed the bands of her braids knotted at the top of her head. When she was fully naked and her hair was set free, wavy and untamed, she looked at herself in the full length mirror beside her bath.

She was pink at the cheeks, breast, stomach and thighs, still standing at five foot two on her bare feet. Her eyes were wide and full of indecision. She looked at the woman looking back at her doubtfully. Who has she become? And is she ready to run a kingdom?

"Something on your mind, your Grace?" said Missandei, who was observing her from the side.

"It is nothing"

She deposited her body into the warmth and comfort of her bath and asked her loyal follower to brush her hair. For a fragment of a second, she closed her eyes and envisioned that it was her faceless mother brushing her hair, whispering sweet Valyrian words in her ears.

"My Queen" Missandei spoke in between brushing "If you don't mind me asking, and I mean no disrespect for your judgments, but how do you still manage to trust Ser Jorah? I recall that he has betrayed you from the beginning and you exiled him, but you accepted him back when he returned"

Her eyes opened, surprised. "This is a peculiar question coming from you, Missandei. Are you always this curious about ser Jorah or has this thought come to you recently?"

"Recently,my queen" Missandei admitted "I have noticed how...devoted he is to you. Now, more than ever."

Her heart betrayed her. It started to quicken its pace under the water. "Have you?" she said, feigning indifference. "Perhaps because ser Jorah doesn't do things halfheartedly. I have known him a long time and he is the sort of man who dedicates his life to the things he genuinely cares for"

"So...you, my queen"

"Perhaps" she said, sinking a little deeper into the tub. "He has considered me his home, and I him. We have...a complicated relationship." She stole a glance at Missandei because the brushing has stopped. Her loyal subject was awaiting for more clarification and so she did. "Ser Jorah has proven himself to be the most loyal and trustworthy man who is at my service. If all who has promised to serve me shall perish, and I should choose new men, I'd rather Jorah be risen from the dead to be by my side or none at all. There is no one I trust more than him. I entrust my life to him completely."

"I understand" the brushing resumed, but then paused again. "And how is the context of your relationship complicated, my queen? Isn't he a mere knight, serving his queen wholeheartedly as is his rightful duty?"

Daenerys smiled. She knew Missandei was trying to ask the questions that she herself was trying hard to forget in her mind. __Guilt? Or perhaps something more unspoken?__

"He has told me how he felt. It is the kind of love that—I admit—I have yet to learn. I have experienced aspects of it from my dead husband, Drogo. But those were only fragments'" she admitted in a quiet voice "Ser Jorah's heart is deep and placed too snuggly in a place where he is willing it to be overlooked and yet, he asks nothing in return but to serve and protect me."

Daenerys hugged both of her knees to her chest, already hating the question that has come out of her mouth "Do you think me selfish, Missandei of Naath?"

"No, I don't" her faithful friend replied "I think—and this is completely from another woman's perspective who has seen the torment of a woman because of a man so devoted to her—you are the opposite of selfish, my queen if you try to disregard your own feelings. If you reciprocate it or not, it is entirely up to you but you should never feel guilt for what another man is feeling for you. His feelings are entirely his own and not yours."

She considered that. Truly, she did.

"And what if...I have restricted myself too much from wanting something? Is this still considered selfless or just plain idiocy?"

Missandei let out a small laugh, amused by the question "I believe that you can want whatever you want, your grace. You __are__  the queen after all. And why should a queen settle for something below what her heart truly desires?"

 

~

 

She has sent a raven to the north, inviting Jon Snow to the Red Keep in order to discuss their possible marriage alliance. She has told her advisors about this and noted Varys and Tyrion's approval. Her knight was absent from the meeting, as he was given the task to oversee the distribution of food factions once more, not only in Flea Bottom but in all of King's Landing, bringing Dothraki and unsullied with him.

She was mulling over this decision throughout the week. When she was tending to her children, when she was in bed about to sleep, when she was sitting in the iron throne or in her bath, even when she was walking along the halls. What was it about this marriage alliance that didn't sit well with her? What was it that made her stomach turn into knots?

It has been a couple more days before she heard the news that the people received what she has promised. That they were nothing but grateful to the new queen who was unlike her predecessor. This gave her immense pleasure and relief. It made her believe that she might actually be capable of ruling the masses.

A few days later, news of her knight's return has reached her. She immediately left her throne room and walked past the large castle's corridors, unfurling brick walls and lush gardens behind her. There were many unsullied and Dothraki on the grounds, busy tending to the carts and loot that have been emptied for the people. They all bowed when they saw her.

She saw him first, talking to an unsullied with a gentle smile on his face. The soldier spotted her and immediately bowed to leave. That was when ser Jorah turned and saw her. She acknowledged him with a smile, taking her time to walk towards him with the ease of a woman bidding her time.

"My Queen"

"You have returned" she said, her voice betraying her concealed relief

"Yes, I have. It has been successful. There was less objection and violence unlike what I'd anticipated"

"You have done immensely well at the task I have given you" she  pleased "I am grateful for your service, ser Jorah"

"I live to serve you, as you know" he bowed gently, ever the knight. "If you don't mind my queen, may I speak to you with a little more privacy?"

He regarded the soldiers around them and she wondered what it was he wanted to say that cannot be said out in the open. So she nodded and took his hand, guiding him to a secluded part of the castle grounds.

"You invited Jon Snow to the south, your grace?" he inquired as they started walking around, past the greenery and the flowers that were to imitate the majesty of High Garden.

"Tyrion and Varys have supported me" she told him, ignoring his disapproving tone "And I assume that you have changed your mind?"

His reply was silence, and the rustle of the sword at his side.

"I assume not, then" she frowned, stopping near the marble fountain spewing crystal clear water.

He too stopped and faced her. "I have my reservations. But maybe this is the right thing for you to do. As I was away, I have come to the conclusion that it is your duty to rule, and the best way for you to go about it is to find a suitable king to rule with you."

She took his hand in hers. His was too big and calloused from war and hers was small and enveloped by the warmth. She squeezed his hands and looked straight at him. "I have listened to all the counsel I have been given from the best advisors a queen could ever ask for. And my decision is this: invite Jon Snow and assess if we would fit for a marriage alliance. Should he and I reach a mutual agreement, and should he prove his loyalty and honor to his queen, then I will accept"

He squeezed her hands, his thumbs soothing the back of it. "Then I shall support you whole heartedly. Just as I have supported the many decisions you have made before"

"Do you mean it, Ser Jorah?"

He surprised her by bringing her hands to his lips. A move from her books, a maiden adored by the knight, providing her with the show of affection that was rightful of their status. Her mind began to whirl, and her poor traitorous heart soared like the ravens. How complex could it be with him? That a mere show of respect and honor through her hands against his lips made everything in her swell with tenderness?

He looked back at her with those clear blue eyes of his, his hair slightly jostled by the wind around them "I mean it, my queen"

 

~

 

She received a letter sealed with the Stark sigil on the day she convened her advisors at the Chamber of the Painted Table. It says,

__"The North recognizes Queen Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons as the true Queen of the South. King Jon Snow will journey a fortnight to King's Landing to pay his respects, as well as to let the Queen know of the support from the House Karstark, Umber, Flint, Mormont, Hornwood, Cerwyn, Reed, Manderly, Glover and Tallhart. The King is open to the talk of any and all forms of alliance that might fortify the union of the Seven Kingdoms. Lastly, he wishes the Queen to be well and in good health._ _

__With deep and sincere regards,_ _

__Ser Davos Seaworth, right hand of The King in the North_ _

When she rolled back the letter, they were looking at her expectantly.

"Well, your Grace?" said Varys "Good news, I hope?"

She tried not to look at the knight standing beside her, silent and brooding. "The king will travel a fortnight to come and meet me in the Red Keep. He is willing to discuss an alliance of sorts."

"Excellent" exclaimed Tyrion, who sat on her right side "As of the moment, I can think of no one more suited for the position. I've known Jon Snow to be a ruler __for__  the people. His honor is exemplary, next only to his skills and experience on the battlefield."

"This is quite astonishing." noted Varys "He is known to love his lands and to never leave it. This proves how important this alliance is, my queen. I suggest you not waste the opportunity to fortify what is coming."

"Jorah?" she said, finally turning to him after noting his silence

He hesitated before saying, "This is quite a news, your grace"

This half-hearted comment was met with silence

" _ _Quite__  a news?" she repeated, amused

"My, my. He seems to be against this" Tyrion pointed out quickly to everyone in the room "Something the matter, Mormont? Feeling possessive of the queen, __yet again__?"

“Tyrion” she warned

"The matter I am concerned with Lannister, is how to stop your mouth from running like a reckless gazelle" said Jorah coldly

Tyrion scoffed "This insult is old. I was hoping to hear something more original—but oh wait, you cannot come up with anything can you, Mormont? All you blubber about is how to serve and protect our queen. But what else is new?"

His only response was a glower in Tyrion's way.

"Enough" said Daenerys, ending the petty feud "Jorah has told me of his reservations. He thinks I should prove to the people of my power as ruler. __Alone.__  For the time being"

"Preposterous!" countered Tyrion "We need to act now and secure our hold of the Seven Kingdoms. We can do this only with an alliance from the most familiar and trusted ally"

“I agree” said Varys

Dany informed them of her wish: To assess, discuss a compromise that could benefit both parties, and if she thinks Jon Snow favorable and far from objection, discuss the marriage alliance.

It was to her delight that her advisors agreed of her plan and all were dismissed with a hopeful spring in their step.

~

She went to the Dragon's Pit before sunrise, on the day of Jon Snow's arrival. She had missed her children miserably and wanted to see how much they've grown accustomed to their new home. She brought with her a dozen live sheep, tied to a rope and wheeled in by Zirqo, one of her loyal Dothraki men.

But when she arrived, she was surprised to see that her children already had a companion. One that stood half her size but thrice as wise. Tyrion, standing next to Rhaegal.

" _ _Yer ishish elat"__ she said to Zirqo, dismissing him.

When he left, she stepped forward and revealed herself to her children. It was Drogon who first spotted her. His wail of welcome made her heart swell. Rhaegal and Viserion followed suit, dipping their heads to her for a motherly pat on the head.

"I have brought food, my children." she said, releasing the sheeps from their cage. Drogon immediately set them on fire, silencing their terrified bleats.

"They have grown to control their fire" Tyrion said, walking to stand beside her. He had been surprised to see her, but got over it very quickly. They were silent as they observed the three dragons devour their sheep. Drogon wailed at his brothers as they started fighting over the meat. At once, the three divided them and ate their own share.

"And intelligent, too" he noted warmly

"What are you doing here, Tyrion?" she said, her eyes still on her children "So early and alone?"

"I have grown fond of their company, my queen. As terrifying as that sounds." he replied, equally transfixed at the dragons "They are wildly intelligent and knows that I come as an old friend."

"They have grown fond of you too" she said, smiling gently as Rhaegal's head dipped down to Tyrion's eye level, hoping for a pat. When he did, the dragon wailed. "Rhaegal, most of all. I don't doubt he would let you ride him in the future. He seems to regard you with the utmost respect"

Tyrion shuddered "I don't think I would, my queen, despite the high honor. The thought of my feet leaving the ground gives me nightmares. I am very content of where I am, thank you"

She smiled "You need to learn to trust them better"

"I do trust them" he said, "It's me I don't trust. I might find myself covered in vomit when I'm high on the air"

She laughed.

Drogon was done with his portion and wailed, giving his mother a look of gratitude. It was funny, but his face is absent of expression except that of ferocious but she knew exactly how he felt. The motherly part of her softened considerably.

"And why are you here so early, my queen?" Tyrion interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to the reality.

She finally looked at him "I never told anyone this before, but I sometimes leave King's Landing and go somewhere deserted. Sometimes I go to the Red Mountains of Dorne, other times The Westerlands. Being alone out in the open with no one but Drogon gives me an opportunity to clear my head and think"

"The Westerlands?" he blinked, surprised

"I know you don't approve but I have driven the Lannisters away. Casterly Rock is empty and dead just as much"

"Still. You know this is risky, don't you? You are giving your enemies the chance to spot you unguarded"

"Drogon doesn't leave me"

Tyrion merely sighed "You __are__  stubborn my queen"

"A dragon trait, I'm sure you're aware"

He shook his head, unable to argue. He then resorted to asking, "And what thought is it that compels you to ride your dragon and leave today?"

Her conviction started to battle inside her. But she knew Tyrion already had his suspicions.

"You know" she said

"Is this alliance not to your liking?" he inquired "Jon Snow, The King in the North himself, has given you the chance to persuade him. And yet here you are, still unsure."

"How can I trust him?"

"You will, soon enough. I have met him in Castle Black and know him to be an honorable man who has become their Lord Commander. His heart is intended for the benefit of his family and his people. What more could you ask for? I cannot speak highly enough of him"

She was silent. Her dragons decided to rest, expelling gentle fire as they snored. Tyrion noted her look of doubt.

"I can't just take your word for it. I have to meet him myself"

"And you will, my queen. He has personally traveled south even if the northerners think of it as an omen of misfortune for their ruler to do so."

"Even so" she said, already hating how much weakness she has shown him "There remains to be a feeling of apprehension in my stomach"

"Perhaps..." he said quietly "Perhaps you have apprehensions about this marriage alliance because your heart isn't in it"

She gave him a sharp look, insulted "I don't think I'm the type of queen who doesn't put my heart into the things I do, Tyrion"

He met her gaze calmly, just as he does her dragons. "Oh, I don't mean your diligence, your grace. You are exemplary at that. Forgive me, what I meant was your heart belonging elsewhere, loyal to the love of another."

She dropped her gaze as she had no response. But she didn't need to speak as Tyrion wasn't done talking as is always the case until he made his point clear. Her chest suddenly felt restricted, as if various emotions vowing to expel out of her could not hope of knowing how to be let out.

That was when she knew. She knew that Tyrion knew what she had in mind. Rather, __who__.

That despite her knight's assurance of support, something inside her still felt the guilt. But of what guilt? The guilt of robbing her knight the chance to love her as a woman? Or something else? Her guilt of denying herself what she truly wants? But what __is__  it that she wants, in the first place?

Suddenly, Tyrion summarized her million questions into one,

"Is it worth the cost, my queen? You, disregarding your heart for power?"

 

~

 

That afternoon, everyone prepared for the arrival of the King in the North. Windows and brick stones were polished, candelabras were lit up and rooms were tidied. Some of his men started arriving and rallying their horses one by one, out on the castle grounds.

Her Unsullied and Dothraki lined the halls. Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion were flying above her castle, wailing and screeching at the party beginning to arrive, wary of the strangers that were on the Red Keep.

She sat on the iron throne, waiting with anticipation at the man who gets to claim her heart while her advisors stood beside her. Amidst the growing crowd inside the throne room, full of her loyal subjects, high Lords, Ladies and Knights, she could not stop herself from looking at her own knight standing directly beside her. If she reached out her left hand, she could hold his.

She wanted to do so and squeeze them for assurance.

Jorah gave her a look instead. It was the look which told her he understood what she is feeling. They had experienced numerous changes together. Of all these changes, he remains to be the most constant. Always by her side, protecting her if needed. It scares and embarrasses her how much she needed his presence to make it through this. Her heart began to quicken.

Jorah gave a rare smile. She exhaled.

Tyrion noticed the exchange but did not speak. His inquiry earlier that day remained at the back of her mind, unforgotten.

"Are you ready, my queen?" Jorah whispered, voice full of unwavering support.

Daenerys nodded.

"Open the throne doors"

 


	2. The King in the North

 

__(Dragon Heart: A Trilogy)_ _

_~_

_“You all crowned me your King. I never wanted it. I never asked for it. But I accepted it because the North is my home! It's part of me, and I will never stop fighting for it, no matter the odds!” —Jon Snow (Stormborn; Season 7,Episode 2)_

_~_

The King's arrival had the entire Red Keep busy. Many of her people were slaving away in the kitchen, ensuring the best food is served and the wine flowing in the Queen's ballroom, where Daenerys holds a welcome feast for Jon Snow and his men.

He had arrived on his horse, cloaked in thick black fur and leather. The queen has taken quite an interest in how he looked. For the most part, she had thought him noble as he had immediately bent his knee, took both her hands and kissed it. When he rose to level with her, he regarded her kindly with his dark brown eyes.

“It is an honor to finally meet you, your Grace”

“As I, you. My Lord” she replied. “Have you a pleasant journey?”

“Pleasantly uneventful” said Jon Snow, before turning to his own men “These are my men from the north, your Grace. And my right hand man, Ser Davos Seaworth, more known as the Onion Knight”

She acknowledged them with a small nod

“The South has truly livened up under your rule, your Grace” said Ser Davos whose voice rang sincere “and your dragons are magnificent”

“Thank you for the kind words, Ser Davos.” she said warmly “My Lord, might I re-introduce you to Tyrion Lannister? The Hand of the Queen?”

“Jon Snow” Tyrion stood up to his full height and offered his hand to Jon who took it as if they were old friends. “How are you?”

“Very well, Tyrion. As I hope you are as well?”

“Very much so” Tyrion replied

“I believe you know of my other advisor, Varys?” Daenerys said. “And let me introduce to you Missandei of Naath”

“My Lord” said Varys and Missandei simultaneously. Jon Snow nodded back.

“The head of my Unsullied, Grey Worm” she continued, her gaze finally falling on the person closest to her “And finally, let me introduce to you the Lord Commander of my Queen's guard and my dearest friend, Ser Jorah Mormont”

Jorah regarded Jon Snow with a respectful look, but Jon visibly frowned after hearing this introduction.

“Mormont?” he said slowly “Might you be related to Jeor Mormont, my Lord Commander of the Night's watch?”

“Aye. I was his son”

Jon's brows furrowed even further “The son who had sold slaves and escaped to Essos to avoid the death sentence of my father, Ned Stark?”

The northerners behind Jon started to peer up at Jorah, and began whispering to themselves after their King's statement. Jorah was anything but comfortable. He took a step back and only nodded in admission.

Daenerys has heard enough of it. This was not the time nor place to remember her knight's faults as all has been forgiven. She cleared her throat. Jon Snow's attention reverted back to her.

“Ser Jorah has received my full pardon and has proved himself to be most loyal and trustworthy” she said firmly while she heard Jorah's gentle sigh behind her “Might we head to the Queen's ballroom? I have prepared a feast for you”

Jon Snow was eyeing Jorah doubtfully, but bowed. “Of course, your grace”

~

And so here they sat on the grand feast of welcome. She was immersed with talking to Jon Snow, as he tells her about Winterfell and his brother and sisters. She tells him about how she came upon her dragons and her Unsullied. He also talked to her about the simple means of their living and how deeply religious his people were. She took it upon herself to listen with utmost interest. It was a pleasant conversation, to say the least.

However, she could not help but notice the absence of her knight. He was intended to sit beside Tyrion, who sat directly beside her and in deep conversation with Ser Davos. Instead, Jorah's seat was empty and his plate and goblet were untouched with food nor wine. Her ears were listening raptly to the King in the North but her eyes were roaming, roaming, roaming.

“Something the matter, your Grace?” Jon Snow asked, noticing the absence of her full attention.

“No” she replied, smiling gently at him. She admitted now, how Jon Snow was very pretty to look at, with his curly, raven hair and kind eyes. As far as first impressions went, he has definitely appeased her doubts. But then again, Tyrion was most usually right about how people worked. “Do continue”

Jon Snow started to talk again, leaning in closer. Just as he was about to tell her about the battle of the bastards and how he managed to reclaim Winterfell, she spotted her knight.

The room was bustling with energy, people were laughing and enjoying the feast but one was conspicuously sullen.

Jorah was standing at the corner, almost easy to overlook. His back was against the wall and a goblet rested on his hand. Their eyes met. He regarded her with an indecipherable look. Daenerys shot him a look of inquiry and his face softened. He smiled and raised the goblet to her before putting it on his lips.

A few moments later, when her conversation with Jon has ended and his attention was to one of his men, Tyrion approached her.

“You need to stop looking” he warned

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mormont” he clarified “He clearly doesn't want to be here. Whether it is because he has a rocky past with the Starks, or because he does not want to see you with Jon Snow—or both, is none of your concern. You need to focus on forming strong, immediate ties”

She glared at him “Why am I not allowed to be concerned? Jorah is a dear friend and how he feels about all of this matters to me”

“Does it ever occur to you, my queen, as to why?” Tyrion brought the goblet to his mouth and gulped a mouthful of wine “Why do you care so much about Mormont's feelings?”

“He's a dear friend” she said again, firmly and with more conviction

“ _ _Is__  he really?” asked Tyrion “Rather, is __he_ still_? Just a friend, I mean”

She glowered even more “Return to your seat, Tyrion! You are drunk”

“Oh, it takes a barrel and a half to get me drunk, your grace” he chuckled “I have merely grown observant after my fourth cup”

“Go!”

It took her a moment to calm herself after Tyrion's inquiries. He infuriated her, in front of all her guests, no less. She reminded herself that she was of dragon blood. She had single-handedly defeated the Lannisters without the need for Westerosi allies or army. She sat on the iron throne and has proven her legitimacy as queen of the seven kingdoms.

But then why was it that a small part of her still felt small and insignificant?

Daenerys halted her thoughts and stood up. At once, the merriment and music stopped and all turned their full attention to her. Even Jon Snow, who had been talking to his men, sat up straight and paid her the attention she deserved.

“Tonight marks the alliance of the Starks and Targaryens” she spoke in a clear voice “The beginning of the fortification of the South and North, and the return of friendship and loyalty of old houses. Thank you, Lord Snow for gracing us with your presence and accepting my invitation. Let us raise our goblet to the name of Targaryen and Stark”

Everybody raised their goblets as one.

Jon Snow stood up suddenly and asked for her permission to speak. She allowed it and sat down once again.

“For years, we have been ruled by a vicious ruler. We have been living in fear of tyranny and violence, fear from having our families and loved ones separated from us, never to be seen again. The Battle in the Red Keep, was fought and won by the mother of dragons. She took back what is hers and now works to bring back the peace and prosperity of the Seven Kingdoms. I would like it to be well known that the North swears fealty to the Queen of the South. Let us all drink to the Seven Kingdoms and let us drink to the health of our Queen”

He raised his glass and drank, as did the rest of the people inside the hall.

“To the seven kingdoms!” all echoed “To the Queen!”

Daenerys was visibly pleased at his loyalty and she thanked him for it. But when her attention returned back to the livened music, merriment and laughter of the people inside the Queen's ballroom, her eyes searched for her knight at the spot he last stood.

It was to her dismay when she realized ser Jorah was no longer in the room.

~

Daenerys tossed and turned in her giant canopy bed that night. Despite the success of the welcome feast and Jon Snow's gentle demeanor towards his acceptance to her as the rightful queen, leading to an easy negotiation of a marriage alliance, something continued to boggle her mind.

At this hour, she should have been fast asleep like the rest of the castle. Tomorrow would be a big day full of appointments and she required her strength to make the correct decisions detrimental to the Kingdom. Unfortunately, even if her tiny body was wrapped in the silkiest robes and she was tucked in the most comfortable satin sheets from the best cloth merchants, she remains to be uneasy.

Tyrion, most especially, has learned to ask her the questions that made her even more confused. And she hated  how he managed to do so. She was the queen. And queens should very rarely be confused. It was a sign of weakness, in her opinion.

It was then that she decided to get up, put on a thick coat and leave her quarters. It was a reckless decision, she  knew. But she had to see Jorah and speak her mind about his behavior earlier at the feast. She didn't like it. He had been distant and brooding, which unsettled her immensely.

“No need to follow” she told the unsullied soldiers guarding her door “I will be hasty”

“ _Yn aōha dārōñe _—__ ” argued one unsullied

“ _Ȳdra daor jikagon lēda nyke. kesan sagon adere._ ” she repeated firmly in high valyrian before raising the hood of her cloak and walking away.

She quickly headed to the White Sword Tower where Jorah's chambers were located, her cloak billowing at her ankles and the cold wind frosting her face. When she reached his door, she gave three quick raps. She heard movement from the inside, footsteps, and finally his door opened.

Sleep was in his eyes but it quickly disappeared when he saw that it was her. She had her cloak on but her cheeks and lips were rosy, a contrast to her pale face. It was a site to behold for the knight.

“Your grace” he said, greatly surprised “what are you doing here at this hour?”

“I wish to speak to you” she said, feeling her face slowly bring back the warmth “May I enter?”

He hesitated before frowning “This is not befitting behavior for a queen.”

She stood up to her full height, which was still a head shorter than him. “I don't think you are the best person to lecture me about appropriation, Jorah. Your behavior from the feast earlier was horrid. Now, let me _enter_ ”

He was unable to do anything but open his door wider. She walked past him in a huff of sweet smelling perfume which made him question if this was truly real. He had a lot of dreams about the queen, and though this was the most peculiar and authentic, he was convinced this was still a figment of his imagination.

He watched her remove her cloak and her coat. She was left with her blue silk robes that etched the shape of her breasts. He tried his very best to be respectful and not look. He averted his attention to her face instead. But she was looking at him angrily.

“I am here to tell you how badly you behaved in that feast.” she spoke “You were suppose to sit on the table, by my side and endure it just like the rest of my advisors”

It was not amiss to her that he was not wearing his shirt. He was not as young as he'd been but he was built sturdier than she expected. The roll of muscles on his stomach was visible from her line of vision. Also, she could see every etch of scar on his skin, the result of being cured from greyscale. It was a sight to see and she stared for longer than necessary.

Jorah noticed her stare and immediately grabbed his shirt and put it on.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” she commanded, bringing her eyes back to his face.

He sighed. “I'm sorry. You are right. I should have been better at handling the situation”

“You should have” she said, still disappointed “I appointed you as head of my Queen's guard. You have served me the longest as an advisor. What part of this makes you feel excluded?”

He was unable to provide an answer. He clasped both his hands in front of him and bowed his head, accepting her ire.

She was about to say more about the matter, wanting him to hear a piece of her mind. But the way he looked and the way he stood turned her anger into softness. It took Daenerys a moment, but she realized the root of his behavior not a moment too soon.

“Is this because of Jon Snow questioning your right to be here just because of your family name?” she asked, her tone of voice significantly changing

“I cannot avoid it” he said “My past mistakes continue to haunt me until this very day”

She took a step forward, stopping right in front of him where she could feel his warmth.  “You have proven to be better. You cannot change what you have done in the past but you have done plenty of good now. That is what's vital”

He took her word seriously as he nodded, stowing it at the back of his mind.

Still, it was a mystery to him why she'd come at this hour just to tell him off about his behavior. He started to worry about her safety.

“Your grace, if this is all—Let me escort you back to your chambers. A queen must not be seen in another chamber at this hour. You can continue to admonish me tomorrow. In front of Tyrion Lannister, if you want. I don't care.”

She ignored him. She resorted into looking around his room instead. Fire was merrily crackling on the fireplace. There was a chair on the hearth, and a small round table with his books.

His bed was unmade. A size smaller than hers, draped with silk red fabric and goose-feather pillows. His sword was against the wall by his bedside. For a knight, he owned too much books. They were everywhere. On top of his shelves, under his bed and on the foot of it.

“I can't sleep” she finally tells him, after she saw everything there is to see in his room.

“And why is that?”

He followed her with his eyes when she made herself comfortable and sat on the chair in front of his fireplace. She looked eerie and not of this world. The light from the fire lit up half her face with a glow. Her silver hair was tinted gold and her eyes—he noted silently—was alight with content. For a moment, he was truly unfamiliar with her. She looked like an angel sent down by the gods. To torture him, to please him, or to make him see redemption—he didn't know.

He stopped himself from looking before he gave away the emotion bubbling in his chest.

“Maybe you were right” she spoke softly, “Maybe I was rushing this alliance”

He didn't know what to say. She was deeply troubled but he had no words of comfort to offer her. It was the middle of the night and her presence in his chamber remains to be unbelievable and if he was truly honest, inappropriate.

“What did you think of him?” she asked softly “Jon Snow?”

Jorah mulled it over for a moment before replying with, “He seems to be a good ruler greatly loved and respected by his men”

“Yes” she said, her eyes far away and glassy “Yes, it seems”

“Your grace—”

“I wonder if this was a mistake. I couldn't sleep thinking how I'm starting to entrust half of my power to the north. I have made so many wrongs, and at what? The cost of innocent lives” she shook her head. She bowed her head in more contemplation.

“You are doing very well, thus far” he said. “Better than the Lannister queen. You have good reason to be worried about the steps you are going to make but you should know by now how everything you do isn't out of tyranny and hate”

She closed her eyes. Her sweet knight. Ever so loyal and true.

“Sometimes you make me feel as if I don't deserve your devotion Jorah” she said “All the wrong things I've done have warranted in anger from the people”

Jorah have seen the anxiety etch into her face. It was on the lines on her forehead and her brows. It was her frown and her stooped shoulders.

If only he could pick up his sword and fight her sorrows away, then he would. However, despair had no physical representation and there was nothing to slay. He could only say soothing words that might make her feel better.

“Your mistakes are just a part of what makes you a great ruler because you admit to them and correct them.” He walked closer to her, standing beside her. The warmth from the fire eased him to say his next words, “I am devoted to you because I believe in you and what you are capable of.”

“But belief is a fickle thing” she argued “It wavers as soon as the people you believe in disappoints you”

“Khaleesi” he addressed, and she looked up, surprised. He never called her that. At least, not anymore. She was 'My queen' and 'Your grace' in this foreign land of Westeros and being a Khaleesi would always be a part of her past life. It was the dirt-under-her-fingernails, dust-in-her-hair, horse-mounting, _khalasar-_ leading past.

“Khaleesi” he repeated “I am a living example of how incorrect that is. I have watch you grow into the queen that you are. I have seen you fall and suffer the consequences of your mistakes and yet—here I stand, still believing in you”

She smiled with tenderness at the kind words, already feeling better. Here he stood—her bear, eyes gentle and patient. He continues to be her strength in times where she felt lost.

This was one of those moments where she felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand, her face heat up and her heart quicken. Jorah has always known what to say to make her feel empowered. The very first time she realized he saw her as more than a queen was in Qarth, when he'd told her how he sometimes can't believe she was real. She had been taken aback, equally bashful and enamored at him for having said those words.

She had been uncomfortable at the situation he'd put her in. Xaro Xhoan Daxos had already asked her how long Jorah was in love with her and she didn't believe it at first but she'd been smart enough to see that Jorah has indeed felt more for her than what he let on.

 _“There are times when I look at you, and I still can't believe you're real.”_ His voice echoed in her mind

This was the same. Sitting here with him in his chambers, and him telling her how he continues to be devoted to her left her feeling bashful and enamored. He made her feel as if she was back in Qarth, as a young naïve queen who still had a lot to learn about foreign cultures, customs and politics.

She considered him a friend, but is it possible for him to be more?  Would she allow it now when there was talk of marriage from another man? She had battled this possibilities. She never wanted to taint what they had. They were old friends. True, sincere friends.

_And yet..._

“Your grace” he said, wanting no more part of this dream he conjured. He didn't want the queen to be troubled. He wanted to see her well-rested and full of vigor. “You must be tired. You need to get some sleep. You require your strength for tomorrow. Let me escort you back...”

His words floated away when Daenerys suddenly stood up and walked towards him. She didn't stop moving closer—closer than what they were used to. He took a step back, while she forward. He watched her face swimming in his line of vision, all violet eyes and rosy cheeks—the woman he decided to devote his entire life to. And here she was, __closer, closer, closer__  and Jorah still thought how merciful the gods were for gifting him with this surreal dream.

“I've been thinking...” she spoke, her breath too close in his face “I want to try something but you have to promise me—” her eyes trailed down to his lips “—not to move”

Their closeness in the spacious room suddenly made him feel as if all the air has been sucked out of him. Talking felt disrespectful. So he nodded at her, wary of whatever it was she planned to do.

The queen was too close. He could see the specks of grey in her violet eyes, he could count the lashes attached to her lids or the light dusting of barely-there freckles, if he wanted to. He could kiss her—

“Jorah” she murmured quietly, her breath tickling the hair on his face. She regarded him with a thoughtful look “what is it about you that I can't resist turning away?”

His heart betrayed him. It began to pound mercilessly. She meanwhile, took note of the hesitation and fear in his face. He was too close. Closer than they've ever been in years, and all she could see were his deep blue eyes misted with wariness.

“My queen, what are you—”

She placed both her arms around his neck, stood on the tips of her toes and for the very first time, slowly pressed her lips against his own. His hand immediately shot up to hold her waist for support while she reveled the feel of them together, her curves against his body. His lips were a tad cold, and a tad dry. Carefully, she traced his mouth with her tongue, tasting him—

Jorah jumped back and let her go.

This surprised her immensely. She had expected him to kiss her back with the enthusiasm of a child. But he didn't. Jorah's breath was ragged—mostly because of shock. He planted his back against his chamber door, as far away from her as possible.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. She noticed how his hands were shaking. “You know this is not right”

Daenerys only looked at him in puzzlement. Jorah was in battle, his torment was splayed for her to see. He wanted to do right by her and leave, but he was also enticed by what had just happened. He clasped both his hands behind his back, not trusting himself.

“This is amusing” she replied, walking towards him. “The situation is full of ironies, don't you think? You were suppose to kiss me, and I was to reject you. But how is it the opposite?”

“My Queen” he said, regaining his composure “You are to be married to Jon Snow, who happens to be sleeping here, in the red keep. I don't think it is in your best interest to toy with me—”

“Toy _with_ you?” she repeated, apalled “I would never”

“Then why torment me, your grace?” he pleaded “I have been perfectly content to be by your side for so long, despite the numerous times I've told you of my feelings. I have expected nothing of this sort from you because I've come to know that you would never reciprocate. I have respected it. I have accepted it”

“No you haven't” Daenerys argued “I have seen the way you look at me. Tyrion calls you pathetic and I have tried so hard not to listen to him talk about you. I know how devoted you are to me and I know you would rather stand aside and watch me be with someone—Drogo, Daario and now, Jon Snow—than to ever do anything that could tarnish our friendship.”

He shook his head, averting his eyes.

“Tell me how you feel” she demanded “Look at me”

He did. His eyes told her that he didn't like the situation she put him in. He was driven to put on his guard and restrict himself from doing anything foolish.

“You know that I am too old for you” he said, voice quivering

She's had enough. If this was truly the world she lived in, Jorah would have been the one pleading with her and not the other way around. She was puzzled as to why she was asking him to see things differently, when he was the one who has told her how he felt in the first place.

“And what of age?” she chided “It may be true that time of birth has set us apart but it is also time that was kind enough to bring us together. I am not speaking to you as your queen, Jorah. But as a soul, speaking to another soul who sees beyond the cage of flesh”

Her words moved him immensely.

Jorah slowly approached her, not trusting himself to move rashly. He reached out a hand to her face, assessing if she would protest. When she didn't, he cradled her head with his hand, the warmth of his palm heating up her cheek. And a little boldly, he placed his other hand at the base of her spine and pulled her closer. He felt her breasts against the thin cloth of his chest, and her heart beating so very quickly.

He aligned their foreheads together so that their noses touched and their breaths fogged in the minimal space between them.

And he held her like this— _carefully, dearly_  and with all his heart.

She exhaled a breath of anticipation

“Your grace” he spoke, his eyes shut close “I vowed to serve you. As much as it pains me, I know that I have to do right. __You__  have to do right. Time away from you—when I contracted greyscale, made me realize how serving you is enough. I expect nothing in return”

 _Then serve me,_ she wanted to yell, _Kiss me_

She suppressed a sob as Jorah tried to hold on to her for a few more seconds. The room was quiet except for the fire crackling in his fireplace, and the beat of her heart taking up the entire room.

In their closeness, he managed to whisper “ _This_ is enough for me” and it took all of her restraint not to break down in front of him to let him see how his acceptance despite its underlying sadness, affected her.

Then just like that, the moment was gone.

He stepped back, his face blank, showing no emotion. But she knew he was feigning it. She knew he was in pain. She knew it. She __swears__  it.

“You are tired” was his way of alleviating the awkwardness. He didn't look at her. And she him.

He walked away from her and grabbed his scabbard with his sword, placing it around his waist.

She watched him with anguish as he did so. _How dare he be so honorable?_ She could almost feel the wetness accumulating in her eyes, he was rejecting her. He does not wish to show his weakness. Jorah the knight. Jorah, still in pain. Jorah, who still prefers to be her friend just to ensure her hold of the iron throne.

“You may be...intoxicated from the wine” he said kindly “Let me escort you back to your quarters, my queen”

“I am not intoxicated” she told him coldly. She put on her cloak and avoided his eyes.

She hated him at that moment, as they walked across the castle grounds together, his hand at her back protectively. Jorah managed to make her feel like a child again. Like she was the queen who was too young to know better.  

When she reached her chamber doors, and her unsullied who guards it visibly sighed in relief at her return, Jorah brought her hands to his face and kissed it.

“I—“ said Jorah, then stopped when he realized they had an audience. “Sleep well, Khaeleesi”

She could not look at him. The sting of his rejection was still weighing heavy on her heart.

So she gave no reply. She merely retrieved her hands from his hold, spun on her heel and retreated to her room, where she collapsed on her bed, allowing the few drops of tears to fall on her cheeks.

It took her a long time to realize that she had done the thing she was trying so hard to stop. She had already forgotten why she kissed him and what compelled her to do so. But she continued to cry in silence, because she had realized in horror that Xaro Xhoan Daxos was right. Tyrion Lannister was right. Daario was right. The hidden thoughts at the back of her mind was right.

She was in love with Jorah Mormont.

~

The next day she woke up and put on her robes, her eyes dry and her heart hardened. The event from last night was stored away at the back of her mind, where it was to be ignored and filed as the mistake she never saw coming.

She has made the decision to forget any and all things associated with what has transpired. It was shameful and unbecoming of who she was. Last night's realization was a product of intoxication from the wine—at least that was what she convinced herself to believe, and her loose behavior in front of her knight is never to be remembered or spoken of again. Tyrion Lannister knowing what happened the night before was the last thing she wanted to happen.

“I have heard from Grey Worm, your Grace” said Missandei who had walked into her chambers earlier to put her hair into long braids, the way Daenerys preferred them. “You went out during the dead of night to see your knight?”

“I worry about how news circulate into this castle” she replied, looking at her reflection on the mirror with no expression whatsoever. “I merely went to admonish Jorah about his unfitting behavior at the feast. I didn't want a repeat of that for the events to come. And tell Grey Worm and his unsullied that they should be _training_  and not _gossiping._ ”

“As you wish, your grace” Missandei was finally done with her hair and gave it one last brush at the ends. Her faithful follower gave her a smile on the mirror.

Daenerys wanted no more news about her knight. She had felt strongly for him the night before, but today—she was the silver queen with dragon blood in her veins. She didn't entertain softness for long because she knew she had duties to attend to.

She stood up from the chair in front of her mirror and looked at Missandei face to face. “Summon all my advisors in the room of painted tables. I want to discuss the next step of this alliance”

“Am I to conclude that you have brought Aegon’s table here in the red keep, your grace?”

“I am blind without it” she admitted “And so will the rest of Westeros if I do not partake in forming solid alliances starting with the north”

~

“It has not been easy” Jon Snow told Daenerys, as they walked along the gardens, a few days later “the other northern houses have been wary about your sudden rise to power my queen, I admit it. They didn't want me to leave them and journey here to meet you. They feared that I wouldn't come back. Much like the rest of our leaders who traveled south to swear allegiance to a southern ruler.”

The King in the North was never one for strolls. As he told her when she invited him for one. She had to admit, Jon Snow _did_  look out of place in the gardens. He continually dressed himself in all black, although he removed his fur cloak. It was a contrast to the colorful flowers blooming from around them.

She wanted to know any and everything about him. Every story he tells her has been nothing but shocking and a little impressive. Not that he was trying to gloat—she could very well hear how he tries to downplay himself and give light to the help he has received from others.

She has learned how he hated killing. That he would do it for duty and nothing more. She has learned about his struggles in Castle Black, how painful it was for him when he learned about the loss of his father, then his brother and mother. How he struggled to fight back another bastard to regain Winterfell, how he struggled to unify the northerners to support her, the new queen, when they were naturally distrusting people.

“And how did you manage to convince them that I wasn't the same as my predecessor?” she asked him

“I told them about your dragons” he said, turning to smile at her kindly “that if you were truly the enemy, you could have flown in all of the seven kingdoms by now and destroy our villages with dragon fire and pillage it with the army you brought from another land—But you didn't.”

“And they believed it?” she inquired “ _ _You__  believe it?”

“Aye, they did. For the time being” he said “It has been quiet and peaceful for a while, ever since the old queen was defeated and killed.  Their fear of being visited by your dragons has diminished over the many months of your rule. As for me, your grace, I can only believe what I see.”

“And what do you see, Jon Snow?”

“I see a queen who has finally taken the power she was deprived of, and the same queen who knows how to use that power for the good of the people” he regarded her kindly “I've seen how you talk to the common men. You open your castle doors, let them in, listen to their plights and try to make a sound solution.”

She smiled, pleased. “I promise you, that it will only get better. Your people from the north can guarantee no dragons nor pillages from me. I don't intend to rain down violence to those who support my claim as queen. As for my enemies, I have learned how inflicting fear is not the answer to everything. What I could do for now is try and persuade them to switch sides.”

“And this...alliance” he said, “Do you wish me to take you as a wife?'

“A marriage alliance” she said, giving it a name “Kings and Queens have done it in the past. Are you opposed?”

He sighed “I do not wish to be a King. Not in the north, especially not in the south. But if this union could help bring peace and prosperity not only to my land, but to all kingdoms then I will not be opposed to it. I want what is best for my people”

She could see his genuine feelings about his land. Tyrion was right. His heart resides in the north. She felt herself regarding him with more respect than she has shown him.

“So you have no qualms of staying here in the south, with me?” she asked

“Let me think about it for a few more days, your grace” he said gently “Let me talk to Ser Davos, Let me send a letter to my brother and sisters and once I have decided, let us talk about it again”

“Sure, as you wish”

She liked that she and Jon Snow have put aside their differences and were beginning to trust each other as friends and ally. They continued to walk around the gardens  in a comforting silence, her hand around his left arm. She loved the warm, sunny weather of the south and she wanted to let it remain that way. Warm and Sunny.

“Now” he said, “I don't mean to mock you. But you are quite young, your grace. Politics is bloodier than war. Did Lord Tyrion teach you—“

“—the art of politics?” she finished for him, smiling softly “Yes, he did. I have never met a man who dislikes violence more than him. He has taught me a lot”

“We first met in Castle Black” he said “I don't remember most of it, but I did recall learning that he was only Lannister by name and not by deed”

“So I've been told” she replied “Tyrion is quite a man. I am grateful for his service as right hand”

They grew quiet for a moment as they continued their walk. The people tending to the gardens all stopped to bow at her in respect before continuing their work.

“I heard that your brother died while you were in Essos. If you don't mind me asking" he said carefully "how did he die?”

She stopped on her tracks, a little taken aback by the question. “Are you asking me about Viserys?”

“If I could be so bold, yes”

She thought about it for a minute, choosing her words carefully before she decided to be honest as he had been with her.

“He died in the hands of my dead husband _khal_  Drogo” she said, her eyes far away, remembering. “He was foolish, my brother. He thought he owned the _khalasar_ and threatened to kill me and my baby if my husband doesn't ride to Westeros and reclaim the throne for him”

She shook her head now, trying to mute the sadness of the loss of her brother. She loved him dearly, most especially when they were younger and he told her of the many stories of the seven kingdoms. But years in hiding from their enemies had turned him bitter, stupid and angry.

“I am so sorry” said Jon now. He regarded her sincerely.

“Now enough of my brother” she said, shaking off the feeling of melancholy. “Let us enjoy the warmth”

~

She occupied herself with learning more about the North from Jon Snow himself. They had constantly talked and shared common knowledge about the land of Westeros. Tyrion started pushing for the marriage alliance but she told him to hold it off, until she and Jon were both ready to discuss it again.

Here was the thing: she liked Jon Snow. She truly did. He was quite a man of honor and any woman would be lucky to take him as a husband. But she felt nothing but __respect__  and _cordiality_ for him.

The only thing that was constantly bothering her was the Lord Commander of her queen's guard, who never left her side even when she was with the Northern King. Jorah was always there, giving her and Jon a respectful distance but still watching her.

It never failed to distract her.

Sometimes she catches him looking at her with a pained expression, before changing it to impassive when she met his eyes.

The horrific thing that happened between them felt like it was from centuries ago. She had struggled to suppress any ill-feeling towards her knight but it seems he has made the job easier for her. He averted his eyes and addressed her only if he was being called upon to speak. Otherwise, he'd remain by her side and keep his silence.

She has managed not to look at him too much, as doing so still made a small part of her chest pinch.

Today was another one of those days where she had people lined up to ask her of favors or help. Over a hundred came and went with grateful hearts. She could see their impression about her changing, and she liked that it didn't even have to involve her unsullied, Dothraki nor her dragons.

“I don't wish for you to shadow me today” she told Jorah, after her castle doors were closed and the people who had approached her with their problems were gone. She stood up from the iron throne and threw him one stern look.

Jorah looked as if he was about to protest. But when he saw her hardened face, he sighed in resignation “As you wish, my queen”

She walked away quickly, leaving him alone in the throne room. He last stood near the iron chair with his hand against his hilt, an impassive look on his face.

Daenerys ought to talk to Jon Snow. She wanted to be in his company because they have newly become friends. She was also curious if he managed to think more about the marriage alliance.

Yet her feet halted.

She stopped walking in the direction of the castle grounds, where Jon Snow was out riding his horse, and decided to return to the throne room to retrieve her knight. She regret her coldness to Jorah. He didn't deserve it. No, not really.

She will ask him to accompany her, and allow him to be by her side as she enjoys the company of another. It was a tad cruel but she knew Jorah would feel more appeased to be guarding her, even with the presence of another man, than to be dismissed.

But when Daenerys was about to turn into the corner where the throne room was located, she heard Tyrion's voice followed by Jorah's. They seem to be arguing. She ducked in a nearby alcove, not wanting to interrupt their heated discussion.

“—given you the title of Queen's guard!” she heard Tyrion say angrily, his voice echoing around the room “And what do you do, Mormont? Abandon your post! You even had the gall to stand here and be angry at me for telling you off!”

“She has asked me not to follow her” was Jorah's vexed yet calm reply “I suggest you ask me of her wishes first before going into rampage about how I falsely left her unguarded.”

“I don't care if she wishes you not to be by her side” said Tyrion “You can guard her even if she isn't close enough. I expect you to know this already. Have you or have you not been the person who has guarded her life from the very beginning?”

Jorah was quiet.

She peeked at the scene and saw Tyrion turning to face the direction where she hid. She quickly put herself out of his sight and pressed her back against the stone wall.

“What is going on Mormont? I have seen how you and the queen tiptoe around each other these past few days. Did something happen that I have no knowledge of?”

The queen's heart started to race.

“Nothing has happened” said Jorah quickly

“You don't expect me to believe that. We have been through so many things together. Slavery, Old Valyria, Fighting pits. What has happened that does not in any way warrant an explanation to an old ally?”

Jorah remains to be silent.

“Do you want me to guess, Mormont? Because I am a very good guesser. You seem to forget that I can easily draw out conclusions.” a pause “Also, I am very clever”

“Something you always have to boast about” murmured Jorah spitefully

She was contemplating if she should interrupt and reveal herself, but her feet remain to be rooted in place for some unknown reason.

“First guess—“ Tyrion said, “Due to the queen's looming marriage, You have pathetically told her how you are in love with her, which made her uncomfortable and a little embarrassed for you because she does not feel the same”

“Enough—“ said Jorah in a menacing voice

“Second, you kissed her and pathetically told her how you feel afterwards. She slapped you, rejected you and now you refuse to serve her because she does not return your affection”

“I am warning you—“

“And third, which happens to be _highly_ unlikely—she kissed you, you kissed her back. You consummated after your long years of friendship which actually became a slow burn anticipation to the wildest sex you ever had in years and now you can't own her because she is sworn to—“

__SMACK!_ _

Daenerys peeked at the scene and wasn't surprised to see Tyrion clasping his right cheek. Jorah had punched him.

“How dare you assume such vile acts from the queen?” Jorah yelled. She flinched from where she was hiding. She has never heard him yell out of anger before. “You do not have the privilege to be called the right hand for saying such stupid things”

Tyrion's voice remain to be calm and unruffled “I was merely testing you. And here, now I see the problem”

“You don't know anything” Jorah snarled

“Here's the pathetic thing about you: You are still in love with her” was Tyrion's conclusion “You may try to hide it Mormont, but I've seen the representation of it in your eyes when you follow her. You wish her to be your woman. You wish her face to be the last thing you see before you die—“

She heard a ruffling of sword and the tinkle of armor. For a second she feared Jorah might struck Tyrion down with his weapon. But her knight merely spoke,

“I vowed to serve and protect her. I will always do the right thing for her, Even if it doesn't include me, having my feelings reciprocated. She has kingdoms to conquer—seven of them. And she needs me now more than ever as an advisor and guard. Which I will be, for her”

There was derisive laughter, echoing along the walls.

“But admit it!” said Tyrion, still laughing “Just admit it! It pains you to watch her with another man, doesn't it? And to a man who your father regarded as a son, no less. It _pains_ you that she will only ever see you as a friend. It _kills_  you to be by her side but not actually, truly beside her as equal. You wish to kiss her, touch her, see her explode in pleasure from under you. You wish to be called her lover. Still—Admit it, Mormont.”

There was a long silence. Daenerys thought that Jorah has stormed off, as if he had enough of this confrontation. But then she heard footsteps and a few more rustling. Then she heard him, voice soft but undeniably clear,

“Yes” said Jorah, who unknown to the queen, had the look of despair and hurt in his face. If only she could see. “Yes I admit it”

There was more silence, but this time it felt more like Tyrion's way of showing his sympathy for the ordeal Jorah Mormont was facing. Daenerys' own thoughts were driven to silence likewise.

“We shall never talk of this again” said Jorah,voice laced with venom “And if I hear you mention anything of the sort to anyone else, I will personally make sure that your death will look like an accident”

“My my” tutted Tyrion “Such dishonorable words from such an honorable knight”

“I mean it, Lannister”

Then the throne room was silent and no more banter was heard

~

A few days later, Daenerys arrived at the chamber of the painted tables after summoning all her advisors and Jon Snow with his right hand, Ser Davos. When they all saw her enter, flanked by Jorah and two of her unsullied, they all stood up at once and murmured 'your grace' as she passed them.

When everyone was seated, and the room grew silent and somber, she took her time to look at each and everyone around the room. Tyrion, who sat at her right and looking at her attentively, no doubt wondering if this was finally about the alliance.

She didn't miss the bruise on his jaw, which she knew was Jorah's doing.

Then beside Tyrion, was Ser Davos who was looking at Jon with a calculated look. From her left sat Varys, who had a curious expression on his face, Missandei next to him was impassive, and finally—Jon Snow, who sat directly across from her.

He was sitting there patiently, waiting for her to speak.

“Thank you all for coming” she finally said. “I have decided to further speak about this alliance”

From her right, Tyrion sighed in relief.

She ignored him and focused her attention to the man across her. “Jon Snow, are you or are you not opposed to a marriage alliance? Do you believe this could fortify the union of two houses instead of causing problems?”

“I am not opposed, your grace” he spoke “I believe the union of our houses could help your pursuit to reclaim the seven kingdoms. But I'm afraid I do have my reservations”

“And what are these reservations?”

“The northern people. I have told you about their ability to trust sparingly. I have convinced them all that I would come back to them, safe and sound. And I've told them about how you are not the same as the old queen, but the past still haunts them—“

“My father has done terrible things to the Stark rulers, I admit it. I ask for your forgiveness for the sins my father committed, but let me remind you how the fruit does not always resemble the tree”

“Their names were Rickard and Brandon Stark, your grace” said Jon “And yes, I know the children should not pay for the crimes of the father, but the north remembers”

“Both houses have done terrible. My father killed two Starks, your father helped the Baratheons overthrow mine. And I have grown familiar of that phrase of yours, _the north remembers_ , which is why I will do my best to rectify this situation. And who else could help me, but you, Jon Snow? The north will learn to trust me when they see that their leader does”

“It won't be an easy task, changing their minds. But it could be done, with time” he said

“Which is why—“ she paused “I will go to the north and get to know your people first”

Ser Davos and Jon shared a cautious look. Tyrion, who had been listening to the conversation, finally opened his mouth to say, “Your Grace, you have not ruled long enough to warm the seat of the iron throne. Do you really think going to the north is a good idea? Wouldn't it be better to tie loose ends, marry Jon Snow first and visit the north only when you have a claim as his wife?”

“I sit on the iron throne, isn't this claim enough?” she argued

“I have to agree with Lord Tyrion” said Ser Davos, who spoke bluntly “for the time being, you are not going to be safe in the north. People may rally behind Jon, and people may show loyalty to him but they don't know you, your grace, despite your claim and your house name. They will conspire and they will plot to overthrow you before you will have a chance to change their minds. They __are__  stubborn”

“And what if I bring an army and my dragon to protect me?”

“All the more reason for them to mistrust” sad Jon, a worried expression on his face “They will immediately think the worst of you”

Her advisors turned to look at her as one.

From her left, stood ser Jorah who had not uttered a single word from the beginning. She wanted to ask him what he thought. But she knew him enough to know that he would side with Jon as he himself was a northern by birth.

The next words she uttered made the very base of her chest tighten. She could almost swear that it winded her,  and took all her mouth's effort to say it out loud in the open.

“Very well” she said, hating how her choices made her feel stuck and inefficient “Then Jon Snow and I will get married immediately through a quiet ceremony before we plot to conquer the remaining kingdoms.”

Tyrion exhaled and gave her an approving look.

“High Septon Welch will preside the wedding, as is what's normal of course” said Varys “And, will you be inviting any noblemen and high Lords, your grace?”

“Nothing of the sort” she says, who had been trying not to look at the knight standing to her left. “I expect no one but all of you to come. The ceremony will be held in the castle gardens, since I've been informed that the Sept of Baelor is in rumbles”

“Destroyed by wildfire” said Varys “Horrid. Queen Cersei's doing”

“Do you have a specific date in mind, your grace?” said Jon

“A week from now” she replied, with a heavy heart “Would you agree?”

The room was silent for a second. And in that second, she suddenly wished Jon Snow would reject her.

“Then so be it” he said

~

Daenerys dismissed the meeting when no more talk have to be had. Slowly, and one by one, all left the room, Jon Snow bade her good night and Tyrion gave her his sincere praise for finally fortifying their most valuable alliance. She meanwhile, remained in the room to clear her head.

How she wished she could ride on Drogon, only to be whisked away somewhere open and quiet, where no one was around to see how her decisions were beginning to have a toll on her. She walked around the table that Aegon the conqueror once built and asked again the question as to how he managed to align all kingdoms. He didn't need to form an alliance with any house to rule.

“How heavy is your apprehension, your grace?” spoke Jorah, who remains standing beside her long after the room was empty.

“Extremely” she sighed “I have always known that I should marry, to gain a more favorable political position. However—“

“You are doing very well” he said proudly “Better than what I expected”

She turned to him. This was the first time that they were alone after that embarrassing mistake of a kiss. He averted from her angry gaze. “You expect me to thank you? You expect me to clamor for a stamp of approval? Do you have any idea how it pains me to sell my heart to somebody I just met—“

“It is your duty” he said, somber

She walked towards him, a distant echo of the night in his chambers. “It kills me” she whispered “How do you do it? How can you remain impassive in front of me?”

Jorah took a step back, uncomfortable at the questions she laid out in front of him.

“I heard you” she admitted “In the throne room with Tyrion—“

He was about to counter what she said but she silenced him with a look.

“I overheard you! Do you _deny_ it?”

Jorah bowed his head, unable to look at her. He was gutted to admit it in front of Tyrion, how he was still in love with her. But learning that she overheard was a bigger embarrassment in itself. He never wished for her to know.

“I was there when you admitted to everything. Why do you lie to me, Jorah? I have expected you to tell me the truth but you didn't. Have I been wrong to trust you again?”

She sat at the place where Jon Snow previously did, her knees giving out. She no longer cared if her plights became visible for him to see. A part of her wanted him to know how physically taxing it was to choose duty over everything else. Jorah followed and sat to her left, where Ser Davos had been.

“I was trying to protect you” he said in a quiet voice “You cannot afford to be distracted now that you can have a sure hold of the north”

“Aren't you opposed to the idea of this alliance from the start?” she said, frustrated “Why have you changed your mind?”

He looked at her seriously, his eyes blue and striking, forehead crumpled and jaw clenched. He took her hand, the one that she rested on the table, and squeezed it. “He is good for you. He is __right__  for you. And most of all, he can help you conquer the other kingdoms. As is what you wanted from the very beginning”

She covered his hand with hers, hating how her eyes started to betray her. “And what about what I need?”

He remained silent, his face was cast with a shadow of sadness.

“Want and need” he sighed “Both dangerous concepts. People often misplace and interchange the two, which brings out terrible outcomes”

She shook her head, disbelieving him. She held his hand tighter. “You wish me to be your woman. You wish my face to be the last thing you see before you perish...” she said, remembering what Tyrion has told him in the throne room.

He stiffened.

“It kills you to be by my side but not truly as equal. You wish to kiss me” she said, edging towards him closer “Touch me, and—see me explode in pleasure from under you, to be called my lover...”

His breathing turned more shallow. He said in warning, “Your grace”

“Daenerys” she corrected softly

The chamber of painted tables was quiet. He eyed their intertwined hands, and noted how his was too calloused and scarred for her smooth, pale skin. She too was looking at their hands, liking how it looked right. Her hands were small, but his was the perfect size to envelope hers.

“Daenerys—” he repeated in his rich voice

“I'm sorry for interrupting your grace“ said another voice from the doorway.

Danaerys and Jorah immediately let their hands go and stood up, in time to see Varys giving them a very curious look.

“Was I interrupting?” Varys said again, his eyes glinting with suspicion

“No” she said, hating how being caught has made her feel like a delinquent “What is it?”

Varys looked at her, then Jorah, then her.

“Might I speak to you alone?” he finally said “It's of great importance”

She nodded at Jorah, who left hastily without a word to Varys. She watched her knight's fleeting back, knowing that she wasn't done speaking with him.

When she and Varys were alone, she sat back and tried her best to be composed.

“Your grace, might I ask—“ he started

“No you may not” she said coldly “You shall not speak of it to anyone. This is an order”

Varys bowed. “I'm sorry. Of course, your grace. Your secret is safe with me”

She assessed him carefully but Varys only looked back at her with such an impassive impression she was almost convinced he was truly sincere.

“Then what is of great importance?” she finally inquired

Varys sat down next to her, his face turning somber. He took one full deep breath before speaking,

“I have received big news that I believe you should be aware of” said Varys  “It's about Jon Snow's true heritage”


	3. The Mother of Dragons

 

_(Dragon Heart: A Trilogy)_

_~_

_I am not your little princess. I am Daenerys Stormborn of the blood of old Valyria and I will take what is mine. With fire and blood, I will take it._ _—Daenerys Stormborn (The Old Gods and the New; Season 2, Episode 6)_

_~_

The rebels that wreaked havoc in Flea Bottom finally had a name: the Kingswood brotherhood. Aside from the food factions being stolen yet again, the brotherhood has managed to cause an enormous problem as news of noble men and high lords being kidnapped and taken hostage reached the queen.

Immediately, she sent out her troops to wipe out the group of bandits hiding in the forest as well as rescue the hostages.

And yet, they failed their queen in retrieving the noblemen. They all marched back to the red keep, Grey worm looking the most somber as he uttered the words—“they lay out traps for horses and unsullied. Half of men are killed and location of village is not known”

She sat in the iron throne as she listened to the horrible news: She lost half a dozen of her blood riders together with their horses, a couple more unsullied were injured. Many didn't make it out alive. The hostages were in metal cages and men with blades and arrows hid in the trees to kill any and all intruders. The food has diminished, but not one was traced back to any part of the forest nor to a village within it.

She knew she had lost more than that in the battle between her and the Lannisters but a brotherhood of puny outlaws has managed to make a joke out of her reign by challenging her authority, even if she has ruled without casting the shadow of fear.

“It was your father, King Aerys, who has last dealt with the bothersome outlaws. No news have been heard of them until now.” spoke Tyrion, who stood to her right “My brother Jamie has told me the story of how he connived with the finest swordsmen and knights: Ser Barristan Selmy, and Ser Arthur Dayne. Together, they managed to kill the brotherhood leader named Simon Toyne, and a one well-renowned Smiling Knight.”

“And what did this brotherhood want that had to be paid with ransom?” she inquired

“Food and gold” answered Jorah, who stood to her left in his armor. “And to overthrow whichever ruler that sits on the throne”

“So they are _threatening_ me” she stated coldly, her blood rising. She felt her hands tighten against the arm of the iron chair.

“ _Mocking_ is a more suitable term” said Tyrion “they wish for food and gold but most of all: havoc. They thrive in it. They feel strongly for it and they will do anything to relive it”

“I will not be giving them the pleasure” she answered. She stood before all her loyal subjects and said, “We will not allow these bandits to steal what we have given to the common people. We do not know of their numbers and how many are plotting to destroy the peace of this city, but we will fight. They will be begging for their lives after I am finished with them.”

She motioned for her advisors and guards to follow her in the chamber of painted tables.

~

“There are hundreds of them” said Jon Snow, who had only recently arrived at the painted tables with his northern men. He had promised to scout the perimeters of the forest for her. “They own no villages but tents near the largest river and by dead of night, they return to their homes”

“Where are these homes?' she demanded

“The trees” he responded “They are climbers. They have managed to reach great heights without falling, carving out their own place on the branches and trunks all the while enjoying the screams of plea from the noblemen below them”

“Then the solution should be easy, isn't it?” she said, rising from where she sat. “I shall fly with Drogon and burn the forest. I shall not gamble anymore of my men when there is one thing that I can do myself”

This was met with silence. Jon was looking at her differently, as if he wanted so much to disapprove but could not say anything. Tyrion and Varys wasn't looking at her. They had their eyes cast down on the floor.

“Risking your life is not wise, your grace” said Jorah, who stepped forward from her left to look at her. “The first thing these outlaws want is to see you dead, they will do everything to fight back. And also, destroying the entire forest will burn the hostages, as well as the little villages within it. This includes the people who lives nearby who are in no way involved in this feud”

“What do you propose to do then?” she said, “As Lord Commander of my queen's guard?”

Jorah stepped closer to the table, his fingers reaching out to a specific area from the map

“Your men separate into four groups. All four enter from different direction, leaving a one mile radius around the outlaws living on the trees. One group sets fire to a clearing,—“ Jorah pointed at a part of Kingswood “until the hostages see the flames and yell out, and until the outlaws can smell the smoke from above.”

Daenerys walked to his side to peer closely at where he was pointing. As she bent closer to his shoulder, she noticed how Varys gave her a small knowing smile.

She ignored it.

“Since these bandits have limited eyes from what is happening below, due to the blinding abundance of leaves and branches, they will be forced to go down and put out the fire themselves.” Jorah continued “The three groups then attack and slay every kingswood brother. The Dothraki with arrows may start getting closer and shoot, and the fourth group will be in charge of rescuing the hostages”

“Grey Worm” she said, looking at the Unsullied commander who stood next to Missandei “What do you think of this plan?”

“It is an ambush” Grey Worm responded, “The plan may work. We must attack when they don't expect”

“At daybreak” said Jorah, nodding “I agree to this”

“Me and my men volunteer to be a group coming in from the north part of the forest” said Jon, who pointed his finger to an entrance to Kingswood found on the table. “We shall ride our horses and patiently wait for the fire to break out”

“I don't think you should participate” said Jorah, who has finally addressed Jon Snow after that bitter exchange when they met for the first time “You are to be married to the queen. Your life should not be gambled with”

Jon shook his head “What use am I if I don't come and help? Did you expect me to stay and wait until the battle is won?”

“Yes” Jorah replied “your place is now beside the queen's. As I will be going with Grey Worm and a few more unsullied to set the fire trap”

Daenerys looked at her knight in surprise. “You intend to join the battle?”

He bowed “It is I who knows the plan best. Let me fight for you, your grace”

“You are a part of my queen's guard—“ she started saying

“And yet I swore an oath to serve and protect you”

She begged him not to go with a look, but he didn't seem perturbed. Daenerys knew Jorah didn't have to do this. But _of course_ he would. He would offer his entire soul if he could, for her. But it infuriated her sometimes how little regard he has for his life when she didn't want to lose him.

“Your grace, I, too, would want to fight” said Jon “Let me and my men fight for you”

She frowned.

However, no one was looking at her. They were all transfixed at the stare-down between Jon Snow and Jorah Mormont who stood face to face with the painted table in between them. Their expressions were blank yet their jaws were tight and clenched. They were clearly trying to one up the other.

_Foolish men!_ she wanted to yell out

But Daenerys know how it was ego that motivated men and she wanted to take no more part in stroking either of theirs.

She cleared her throat and their attention refocused on her. “Very well. Those who want to fight shall fight and I will be sitting here— _useless_ but awaiting for the victory”

_~_

She summoned Tyrion to her chambers the evening before the ambush took place the following day. After learning about Jorah and Jon's strong insistence to be part of the men waging a war to the kingswood brotherhood, she had felt very unsettled.

She had never been one to put much faith in prophesies but she has always trusted her instincts. It was what saved her during her time in Essos. Her gut tells her that sending both men she cares about in the forest would result in drastic consequences.

She never should have allowed Jorah to go.

Daenerys flew on Drogon earlier that day, having no particular destination on where to land. Instead, she reveled in the feeling of weightlessness. Of discovering how small everything was from below her, and if she thought much about it, the skies bore witness to every single human plight but considers it insignificant and forgettable.

She has come to ponder about the extent of power and how much of it was permissible for her to yield. Drogon covered small villages with the shadow of its wings and she saw common people from below her look up in awe and fear at the sight of her and her dragon flying over them.

Daenerys never thought of it before, but she has come to the conclusion that every decision was still small, compared to the entire stretch of the world. That whatever it was beyond the skies, didn't care for queens or kings or khals or common people. They were all tiny and meaningless and would return to dust.

It was vital for her that she makes valuable decisions. Decisions that would make her selfish but happy.

“You called for me?” said Tyrion, who had entered her room after knocking.

“Sit” she said, motioning the seat across from her. She had asked Missandei to prepare some wine. When Tyrion saw his strongest vice prepared on the table, he immediately grabbed a goblet and poured for two. One was filled to the brim, the other was half full.

He gave her the half full goblet, which she accepted. Tyrion then sat comfortably, sipping his wine before speaking again, “Mormont has been looking for you. You had him worried when I told him you left with Drogon”

She offered no response but sipped a tiny bit of wine. The flavor settled on her tongue and she had to swallow it very quickly. She was never one for wine, unlike the previous queen who hid barrels upon barrels of it.

“Jon Snow, meanwhile asked me to find you”

“What did he want?” she asked

“The same as anyone else, I suppose” replied Tyrion, “The attention and validation from a powerful dragon queen”

She snorted “You amuse me”

“Don't I always? My _loving_ father used to say how I could work for the circus and be the imp that could amuse people” he chugged a mouthful and set his cup down “Why have you called for me? Do you need my counsel, your grace?”

“Not particularly, no” she replied in a soft voice, twirling the goblet in her hand “You failed to console me back in Mereen so I expect nothing of comfort from you. I simply want to converse with somebody”

“What about?”

“The kingswood brotherhood” she said a little spitefully “I want this conflict to be done with. I am eager to just get on and continue with all the plans we have plotted for King's Landing and the conquest of the other Kingdoms”

“The other kingdoms are well aware that you are coming for them, your grace” he said, “Not many have expressed hostility, if you can believe. I am not one to provide irrational assumptions but I think your conquest for Westeros would be far less work in comparison to that of Aegon's.”

“You do know how to console me” she showed him a brief smile “Is this information true?”

“I have been sending letters to the ruler of each kingdom, announcing the beginning of your reign as you sit on the iron throne. Nobody has been remarkably rude or against it as of the moment. Dorne, in particular has no qualms in paying you a visit for them to bend the knee”

“Dorne? How ironic” she said, shaking her head in disbelief “This was the Kingdom that gave Aegon the hardest time”

“Funny how times have changed” said Tyrion, taking another chug from his goblet.

“Funny” she repeated

“Now, why don't we talk about the _real_ reason as to why you summoned me?” he said, attempting to pour himself another cup of wine after thoroughly finishing his first.

“Why do you think I called you here?” she asked, bemused

“You overheard me and Mormont arguing in the throne room” Tyrion said, leveling his eyes with hers. Despite emptying his entire cup, he managed to give her an earnest look. “Haven't you?”

Her brows knotted in confusion “You were aware that I was there?”

He chuckled. His small body shook with it, and a strand of his hair fell to his face. He pushed it away before saying, “You seem to forget how striking your hair is. A tiny display of silver would immediately bring attention. Mormont missed it because his back was to you. But I've seen you duck in that alcove.”

She frowned at him. She placed her still-filled cup down the table and folded her palms against her lap. “Am I to assume that you were asking those questions to Jorah because you knew I was listening?”

He smiled and took a long sip. She had the strange urge to knock it down the floor and watch his face crumple in dismay.

“Yes, I did” he said, cradling the goblet with two hands “You should have seen his face, my queen. It was pitiful and pathetic. He shattered in pieces before me.”

“I didn't need to see” she answered him coldly “I heard him”

He shrugged, unconcerned

“Why must you be so cruel to him?” she demanded “He has done no wrong. He has never tried anything with me and shows me the highest respect that I have received than any of you combined”

“I admit how wrong it was” Tyrion conceded by raising his cup “However, I wanted him to reflect upon his feelings. He has sat with it for so long. Should he want a wife, he could. Should he want gold, we can provide. Should he want home, you can command him be. But he only wants _you_ , and that is the root of his demise. He sees nothing _but you_ , your grace. He is no longer a man, but a worshiper”

She was about to speak when Tyrion continued, “As pathetic as he is, you have to know that you have become his strength. _You_ , the very essence of who you are and not just the things you bring with you.” he finally put his goblet down “I admire him for that”

They sat in silence for a moment as she reflected on his words. Tyrion had been cruel. But every part of what he said was the truth.

“You deserve that bruise” she said, eyeing the discolored injury on his jaw. “Jorah did well to punch you”

“Oh, I knew I earned it” he laughed a little tipsily “It hurts like hell, too. But hearing him admit to every assumption I threw at him was worth it. Wouldn't you say so, your grace?”

She merely took a sip of her wine in response.

~

It was long before daybreak and the southern winds continued to be chilly and crisp. The sky was dark and had vast distribution of stars and the torches around the castle walls were cracking merrily, burning bright orange flames.

Daenerys watched four troops of her men including Jon Snow and his northerners align themselves on the castle grounds, ready to leave. She knew that this was one of the many more wars she had to endure to secure her throne. And a part of the countless battles in her past that had ultimately led her to rule Westeros.

She had not slept a wink the night before from worry and felt tired but rapt as she stood near the castle door entrance with her advisors behind her, her cloak jostled by the air around them and her breath fogging from the cold. It pains her to see them leave. Jon Snow, and Jorah.

But she bit her tongue and watched in silence as they loaded in their weapons and gave their horses one final brushing.

It was Jon Snow that first approached her.

“We shall talk when this is over” he said to her, his eyes were still downcast but there was an overshadow of determination she had not seen from him before. This only made her trust him more “We will win this for you, your grace”

“I look forward to it” she told him, reaching out to touch his arm “I wish you and your men well. And thank you, for fighting with us in this time of need”

He bowed and said no more.

She watched him mount his horse and adjust the sword resting on his scabbard. He gave her one more look before marching with his men out into the field. It saddened her to see him go into a fight like this, when their alliance hasn’t been fortified by marriage. She knew he was a valuable ally and friend and she only wished for him to come back unscathed.

However, her concern for Jon Snow was muted when she saw her knight approach her. Immediately, her heart swelled and she reached out her hands for him to hold.

“Your Grace—“ Jorah started

“I am giving you one last chance to stay here with me. Let the others fight. I would be more than glad to see you by my side, safe and sound”

He smiled at her gently, his hand gripping her own with the warmth she knew he brought with him. “It would be my honor if you allow me to fight, just as I have done countless times, for you”

She can only look at him in response. Saying goodbye to him before a fight wasn't new to her. She'd done it in Vaes Dothrak, Mereen, Yunkai, Astapor, and Qarth. But this time was different. This was the time when she had realizations about her feelings for him, despite its wrongness. She had discovered how feeling this insurmountable tenderness for him was more than friendship and trust.

“Then I wish you victory” she said simply

He bowed “For you, my queen”

Jorah was about to go, but she stopped him by tightening her grip on his hands. He looked at her in surprise.

“Jorah, wait” she whispered, swallowing the bile that suddenly rose from her throat. The thought of never seeing him again in this state had driven her to worry. Though she hated letting him see the depth of how much she cared, she didn't stop herself from doing so

“ _Please_. Don't die. I will not know what do with myself if you do. You are to return to me with your life and your body intact. I forbid you to die. I _forbid_ it”

He nodded, his eyes spoke to her about a million parts of his devotion and love.

“I will see you again, my queen. This is a promise that I intend to keep”

~

Leaving the queen was no easy feat for Jorah Mormont. Time away from her when he contracted the deadly grayscale was their longest separation ever since he met her and while he was being treated in the Citadel, he had thought of nothing more than her safety and well-being, every day and every night, after he woke and before he went to bed. It was her name on his lips and her face on his mind.

This was no different for him, as it was oddly reminiscent to his last departure. He trotted on with his horse and with her men: unsullied, Dothraki and now a new ally, Jon Snow. To bring her back honor and victory by defeating the Kingswood brotherhood. It was always like this for him, and by now he should have been used to saying his goodbyes, knowing that there was a possibility for them to never see each other again. Him, dead in the hands of her enemy.

But every goodbye always felt like the first and last.

_Khaleesi. Khaleesi. Khaleesi._ He utters under his breath like a prayer. One for good luck, Two for guidance and Three for a victorious return to his queen.

He takes one look back at the castle looming from behind him. He spots his queen still standing at the entrance, her hands clasped together and her silver hair flying all around her. He could no longer make out her face as it was too far away, but he would like to think that she was looking at him.

When the Red Keep was out of sight and they headed on to barren fields, Jon Snow rode up to him, with his fur coat and black leather clothes. Jorah would never admit it out loud but the fur cloaks reminded him of Bear Island. Nothing was warmer and more comfortable than bear fur around a man's back.

Both men rode in silence for a moment and Jorah would have liked to keep it that way until Jon spoke, “She trusts you very much”

“She doesn’t trust easily.” was Jorah’s curt reply

“And yet she did” said Jon “she _still_ does”

Jorah shook his head “It took me a long time to earn it and had to work harder to regain it”

“Tyrion told me” Jon said, referring to Daenerys finding out about Jorah’s first intentions “Yet you’re still here. You’ve been given King Robert’s pardon and you chose to stay by her side. Why?”

Their horses trotted on, strong yet stealthy in the dark while Jorah thought of how to explain without having to reveal the extent of how much he admired his queen.

“It was different when her dragons were born. She was the only one who managed to bring back these creatures, making the impossible a reality. But it wasn’t just about that.” Jorah said, “I stayed even when she was at her weakest because it was in those moments where she was bravest. She silenced those who underestimated her power. Khals and Masters and other cynics alike. ”

“You never doubted her?” said Jon “Your loyalty never wavered, not once?”

“Never” said Jorah solemnly “The queen is capable of ruling. She may inspire fear but she also inspires freedom and devotion. Here she sits on the throne, and yet people are slowly warming up to the idea of the peace and prosperity she is starting to build”

Jon was silent as he processed this “You believe she isn't like her father?”

“I'd like to believe she was raised differently” answered Jorah “Her everyday choices proves to have the furthest resemblance from her father's”

Jon was looking at him for a long time—as if truly seeing him for the first time—before saying, “Your loyalty is admirable”

“She deserves no less” was Jorah's reply

They were silent again but not before long when Jon broke it.

“I worked with your father in Castle Black” he said in a somber voice “He was an honorable man. He treated me as if I was his son”

Jorah sighed. Hearing about his father would always feel like plunging a dagger back into an old scar, re-opening the flesh and exposing the wound. “I dishonored him. I brought shame into my family”

“Aye, you did” said Jon, but not accusatorily “I have never told you this, but I was there when he died. It was his dying wish to forgive you.”

Jorah halted his horse to look at Jon, surprised at this information. Mormonts were taught to show very little on the outside. Little emotion, concise words and rare outbursts. His father always ingrained in him the principle of letting his work speak for himself, rather than running with his mouth.

And so as he opened his mouth now, he quickly changed his mind, remembering what his father taught him. He'd rather keep such outburst to himself. It did him well before and it would do him well now. He promised to honor a prayer to his father once he returns. He will kneel and pray to the seven gods that his father may rest in peace.

"Even at his last moments, he remembered you" continued Jon quietly

Jorah cannot look at Jon as the emotion stirred within him. They continued on along in silence, their horses trotting past more barren fields until the shadow of the kingswood forest loomed over them.

“This is where we separate” Jon said to him “My men and I shall head farther and take shelter nearest the Wendwater river. I wish you well”

They locked gazes for a moment. Jorah felt their regard for each other change. A silent, respectful camaraderie. A shared father. A shared home in the north. Perhaps, even the same woman. But it didn't matter as of now.

“As I, you” said Jorah

Then both men headed into separate directions. Jon Snow further north and Jorah with his troop, entering at the eastern part of the forest.

~

The journey to the heart of the forest was no easy feat for any of the queen's men. The path was dark and the occasional sound of twigs breaking and heavy branches rustling echoed all around them. Jorah's horse began neighing out of thirst and had to be fed water. Greyworm and the others with them were silent and deadly, eyes wide aware and ears always rapt.

No one had spoken out of fear of being overheard.

Finally, when Jorah caught site of the large metallic cage a few hundred feet away from them, he ordered the rest to halt.

He and Greyworm simultaneously nodded at one another as they reached the edge of the clearing they were about to set ablaze. _Zirqyin_ , one of the Dothraki arrow men, lit up the end of his arrow and shot the mound of shrubbery and plants alight from a mile away. At once, the fire started to consume any and all flammable thing, spreading very quickly like wildfire.

As expected, the screams of terror from the hostages were heard as they all noticed how the fire nearly surrounded them.

Jorah and Greyworm exchanged a look. _Wait. Patience_.

Then slowly and one by one, men residing above the trees climbed down with ropes tied to their waist, investigating the fire that started. Orders to bring water and dirt were heard all around, men were running back and forth with barrels upon barrels of water. Sacks of dirt were carried by a dozen men, pouring it all over the shrubs around. The chaos they had created momentarily distracted the brotherhood of kingswood.

_More water! A dozen more sacks of dirt! Watch our prisoners, you cunt! Scan the perimeter!_

Jorah took a step back further against the tree to hide. He tried to squint his eyes and made out the shadow of the other troops. From the north, Jon Snow waiting in the shadows, the west and south, men anticipating, waiting for the signal.

Wait.

From beside him, _Zirqyin_ inhaled—

_Zing!_

Jorah and Greyworm stood aside, nonplussed when the Dothraki arrow man fell on the forest floor with a thud. Upon further examination, an arrow had struck him right on the forehead. The blood started to pool around his skull, pouring into the forest floor and coating it red, his eyes were open but blank.

The knight's heart started to race. It would have been him, should he have stood at that exact place as _Zirqyin_. It would have. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to imagine the queen's face, gentle and openly smiling at him. He quickly thought about how she smelled when she entered his chambers, its sweet scent wafting his nose, and her body curved against his in a forbidden embrace.

When he opened them, he was pulled back to the harsh reality.

“They know” said Greyworm

There was silence for a split second.

_Zing!_

They all ducked as more arrows soared past their heads, very narrowly missing them. Jorah and Greyworm exchanged a look as the knight withdrew his sword from his scabbard.

“Charge!” he yelled

Then chaos ensued from all around them.

~

Daenerys was in the Dragon Pit once more.       

It was broad daylight, and she walked back and forth around her children while they looked at her in curiosity. Drogon most of all, had been more than prepared to spread its wings and take her to the kingswood forest. But she restrained herself until plea for help or any news at all from her men would reach her.

She sighed, her brows knotted together. It wasn't past her to worry. She hated not doing anything, when she knew she could end this preposterous battle once and for all with one fire breath from her child. She should not have gambled with Jon Snow's life. Or Jorah's.

Daenerys closed her eyes and tried to think of how Jorah looked as he promised to come back to her with his life. She had watched him on his trotting horse, until he disappeared out of sight earlier, but her worry for the knight never dissipated. He had survived greyscale. Surely, he could overcome this. _Surely._

“Not yet” she told Drogon, as it flapped its wings impatiently

“Your grace!”

She quickly turned to see Varys running, out of breath towards her.

“The battle was won. The Unsullied has returned with the hostages as well as the chained brotherhood”

Her heart quickened, pleased with the news. But she realized one tiny thing about what Varys said.

“The others? Jon…Jorah?”

Varys understood. But she didn't care. She wanted to know. He shook his head gravely “No news of them as of the moment. The more pressing question here your grace is, What would you have these criminals do?”

Daenerys tried her very best not to fly into the forest and scurry along to look for her knight. Her foot twitched. Drogon was still looking at her in anticipation. There was no news of his return. But he _promised._

Yet, she exhaled and shook her head. If there was one thing she learned from him, it was to wait. Instead of charging past the red keep, she should remain here and tackle the captured brothers from kingswood so they may learn to bend the knee to her.

“Bring the high lords and noblemen into the kitchen. Feed them food and water. Lock the criminals in the dungeon for the time being. In the afternoon, when the hostages are well rested and the criminals have further reflected on their crimes, we shall have a trial in the Dragon pit”

~

It has been a long time since he fought with vigor despite his age and diminishing strength. But as Jorah held his sword tightly—the sole protector of his life from death—everything came back to him. The familiar slashes of his blade on another man's flesh, the thrill of outsmarting an enemy in the battlefield, the feel of being an assassin, to kill, to fight and to bring honor not only to his queen, but to his father.

He dodged past a few bandits, quickly evading their piercing swords and retaliate with a flick of his wrist right on the neck, his sword slashing through the throat and tongue.

Jorah panted, his armor was hot and heavy but continues to save his life. He scurried the entire field for a moment. Greyworm and some of the unsullied have successfully released the hostages and managed to escape as he, Jon Snow and his men remained to distract and kill the other men from the brotherhood.

They had lost dozens of men, but the outlaws and bandits lost more. Which meant that the queen's side was winning and they had the potential to wipe out anymore uprisings.

Jorah spotted Jon Snow fighting two at once and quickly joined him. Thus began a lethal dance.

“Your soldiers managed to rescue the hostages. They must be far now” Jon managed to tell him, while fighting off a bandit.

“The others?” asked Jorah, who continues to fight beside the king, their blade clashing metal against metal, echoing in the forest. He managed to kick the bandit who grunted and rolled over, only to return fighting.

“Dead” answered Jon, before successfully managing to pierce his enemy's abdomen with his spear. “Some continue to fight”

“Go” said Jorah, “round up all those who survived and let us slowly retreat. The brotherhood has been defeated and very few remain”

He and Jon shared a look, as if they both understood that it was finally time they claim the victory. Jon nodded and left.

The bandit who Jorah was fighting gave one powerful grunt as he attempted to pierce Jorah's head. The knight quickly dodged, but not before emitting a slash wound that immediately started bleeding.

“I will _kill_ you!” said the bandit savagely, his mouth foaming with saliva and eyes bloodshot with anger.

Jorah panted from exhaustion. The wound at his neck began to pulse with heat as the pain seared him almost blind. He managed to dodge another swing of the sword and rolled over on the forest floor to balance himself. When he opened his eyes, the bandit was grinning.

“You _filthy_ knight!” he spat

Jorah managed to kick him in the stomach and the enemy flew back a few feet.

“How dare you uprise against the queen!” Jorah said, back on his feet and sword tight in his hand. When he cupped his neck, he saw the pool of blood in his palm.

The bandit stood again and they resumed their sword dance. Jorah backward then forward again, clang of metal intended to kill, against each other at daybreak and in the chaos of the once silent forest. From around them, other men continued to fight one another. Jon Snow was nowhere in sight.

Jorah managed to pierce the man's leg, making him kneel. The knight finally saw an opening to kill, as he began envisioning the bright image of his queen welcoming his return with a relieved smile, her arms wide open for him to step in.

The man's chest was exposed and Jorah raised his sword, gave one final swing, a slash and a blur of metal in the entire forest, and blood managed to flood the leaves from under them, slowly then quickly.

Once the man lay dead at his feet, he lowered his sword and tried to assess his surroundings. The forest fire they conjured has been turned to ashes. No more men lingered from the trees above and the hostages were far from danger.

“ _DUCK!”_

The knight tried to find the source, eyes looking wildly, alert and rapt—but not alert enough as rain of arrows began flying everywhere and it was a moment too late when he spotted that it was Jon Snow who yelled out a warning at him.

For a moment, he was confused. He had thought that more men had come out from hiding, intending to kill them. His line of vision stilled, his ears were silent and his men were suddenly looking at him in horror. Jon, most especially, looked the most anguished as the king in the north slashed his sword back and forth against the bandit arrow man, piercing him on the throat.

It was to the knight's horror when he realized something was amiss about him.

~

“No news of them?” Daenerys demanded of Varys, who sat beside her on the Dragon pit.

Greyworm had brought the brotherhood prisoners, their hands chained and linked to the others. He stood there in front of her, with concealed pride and earnest. They had arrived earlier, their forces injured but without casualties. The high lords and noble men were being taken cared of in the kitchens, as she had commanded, they were given food and drink as their families await for their return.

She admit that seeing the hostages alive and well gave her a sense of relief, but it still wasn't enough to silence the growing worry in her as Jorah and Jon Snow still haven’t returned.

Daenerys stirred in her seat for what felt like a millionth time.

Even if she had summoned everyone for a hearing which felt more like a formality at this point, her heart and mind wasn't in it. She wished with all her heart that they were making their way back here, alive and well. Her knight's absence has continually distracted her, the despair slowly creeping up and enveloping her mind.

Varys sighed. “As soon as I do, I will immediately inform you, your grace”

“Why don't we focus on the matter at _hand_?” Tyrion spoke, who sat on her other side. He gave her a pointed look towards Greyworm with the captured bandits presented in front of her.

From above, her dragons roared and everyone but her visibly winced.

She sighed and stood up to her full height. She eyed the men who dared challenge her authority and approached them carefully. She wanted to be done with them. She wanted to return to normalcy, if that was even possible.

“Give me a reason as to why I should not burn you with my dragons” she said coldly to all of them “Do I have a reason to be merciful to any of you? You who claim to be a brotherhood of kingswood?”

The captured men looked at one another in fear. They remained silent.

“How dare you steal from the common men?” she exclaimed, her voice echoing across the silent Dragon Pit. Her audience were all statues, awaiting her verdict. “What makes you think taking hostages and giving grief to their families could get you what you wanted?”

She stared them all down with her angry gaze, the dragon in her has roared angrily.

“How _dare_ you uprise against me, the queen who sits on the iron throne?”

There was silence, then a distant laugh coming from one of the bandits.

”You are no queen. You w _hore!”_ His voice resonated around the stunned audience, as he insulted her further by spitting at her feet.

Her temper flared as her mouth twitched to give the word of punishment. But she breathed out calmly, biting down her tongue. When she looked at her dragons, it was Drogon who looked most angry, hissing and ready to pounce. From behind her, Tyrion was shaking his head. A warning at her.

Greyworm drew his spear and pointed it at the bandit's throat.

“Mind your tongue!” he yelled “Or you won't have any”

“Kill us all now, then!” the bandit retaliated “We'd rather be dead than suffer under a foreign ruler who knows nothing about this land! She will drive us all to madness just as her father did!”

Daenerys tried her best not to show how the words affected her. She was a Targaryen, but she was _not_ her father. She’d rather kill herself than give in to the madness.

“I will give you one last chance” she said, through clenched teeth, her voice quivering with rage. She didn't like giving out chances to hopeless people but she knew it was for the best that she show mercy even to those who do not deserve it.

“Bend the knee to me and your life will be spared. It will be spent in the underground cellars where you will reflect upon your actions” she paused, “Or die”

There was silence as everyone in the dragonpit awaited a response. Daenerys clasped her hands together, waiting as well, her eyebrows rising.

Finally, there was a movement. She watched as the bandit's face twist in scorn. He spat at her feet once more.

“Burn us!” said the man locked in chains before her, his teeth bared “You like seeing people turn into ashes before you, hearing their scream of pain and plea. You enjoy it. You _crave_ for it. Just like your father! Burn us then! _Burn us!_ Prove us all right! _”_

At that moment, she was caught in between giving in to their taunts, or stepping up and becoming better. She caught Lord Tyrion’s eyes and immediately, he shook his head at her. To signify a no. Daenerys turned to Greyworm, after getting frustrated at her right hand’s predictable and wearisome counsel. The unsullied commander looked back at her with a hardened expression. He too, had no sympathy for any of these men and it was in this look that conveyed to her how she should do the same.

The queen formed a resolve and her gaze fell once more to the criminals.

The bandits looked especially taunting. They reminded her of the khals who once underestimated and ridiculed her in Vaes Dothrak. Where were they now? She placed them in their rightful place. Today, she was repeating history.

“No” she finally spoke, smiling a fragment. “I don’t think burning is punishment enough”

The bandits who were leering at her confidently suddenly stilled.

She stepped forward and addressed the entire dragon pit. “The kingswood brotherhood is charged guilty of thievery, kidnapping and murder.”

As one, the high lords and ladies who were present in the hearing nodded in agreement.

Daenerys continued, “And as such, I, Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen first of my name, Queen of the andals and the first men, sentence these criminals to die”

The men’s faces quickly turned into fear, the chains that bounded their hands together clinked as they awaited to hear her say the words. But those words would never come. Today was the beginning of her restraint. Tyrion had taught her how fire was too cruel.

But the queen disagrees. There were worse ways to punish criminals, ways that she learned from the dothraki themselves.

“You will all be hanged” she said calmly “And in those very last minute where you gasp for air, my _khalasar_ will come and mangle you slowly. _Piece_ by _piece_ , until nothing is left of you”

~

Jorah looked down on himself and found an arrow protruding through his torso.

This was the thing: he had no memory of when exactly the arrow managed to pierce his abdomen, nor had any recollection of the pain. All he remembered was his knees giving out, as he fell on the forest floor with a thud of his heavy armor. He felt the slow heat pouring out from behind him, thick and smelling of rust: his own blood soaking his back.

_Everything_ was in slow motion. Jorah's eyes began to blind him, as the trees became a blob of green and brown. His ears heard indistinguishable yells, as thundering footsteps echoed all around him. He gave a few painful pants as he attempted to cover up the wound that the arrow managed to penetrate, but it was no use. The arrow was too deep in and too painful to pull out. It could make him bleed to death. He winced.

“Mormont!” he heard someone say. Jon Snow, perhaps. But it was too far away to decipher and he felt like he was floating like a feather.

He gave out a low grunt of pain. He heard a clang of metal drop, his sword lay beside him on the forest floor, dormant like him.

“You are _not_ dying, Mormont. Do you hear me? Not on my watch!”

He blinked a couple more times, the pain consuming his entire torso into paralysis. He can only make out distinct shapes, a human shadow but nothing else was clear. He closed his eyes as his breathing started to slow down.

“Open your eyes!”

Quickly, Jorah began to realize that this was how it was going to end for him.

And even then, the knight thought of nothing else. Not of the pain, nor the battle that they had won, nor the saved hostages nor his advancing death.

He thought of his father, despite not remembering how his face looked like. Jorah thought of the disappointment and shame he caused by what he’d done. He regret not seeing him for all these years, begging for forgiveness. He regret not taking the black and joining him as Lord Commander.

“I’m sorry father” he murmured to the world that began to lose him “I’m _so_ sorry”

His ears were muted. He felt people jostling him, stirring him awake, mounting his body on an animal but he didn’t care enough to open his eyes. He knew that his few breaths left were precious. He used that time to recall everything about his beloved queen, instead.

Every single memory.

How he first laid eyes on her sitting next to _khal_ Drogo, looking so terrified and innocent. She’d looked at him for guidance, friendship, protection. He recalled the many times she conveyed in him her fears and doubts about ruling, about her dragons, acquiring an army.

He could never forget how betrayed and angry she was when she knew of his treachery. She’d sent him away but he knew that it was the most painful thing she’d ever done. Most of all, he could never forget how she forgave and hugged him back into her arms after he was cured of the grey. She welcomed him as if he’d never left, her touch warm and familiar.

She’d kissed him in his chambers as a woman who meant it and he cradled her in his arms as a man, held her there and managed to think that she was his for a moment. It was the kindest thing the world has ever done for him.

Her name was on his lips and her face on his closed lids.

Daenerys. His student. His Queen. His Khaleesi. His _love_.

White hair and violet eyes, looking down at him with love and mercy and acceptance. She was his home and had given him the redemption he had been seeking all his life and for that, he is eternally grateful.

Unknown to him, a single tear fell on his cheek.

Jorah opened his lips with much effort, it was all he could do.

Out came a word. A breath.

“Khaleesi”

Then he succumbed into the comfort of darkness.

~

“Khaleesi”

She gave a start.

When she turned, it was only Tyrion looking at her seriously with his hands clasped in front of him.

“That sounded weird on my tongue” he noted, “But it felt powerful”

She gave him a confused look “And it sounds strange to hear it from you. You never call me by that title”

Daenerys watched as he walked towards her and joined her in the castle balcony that opened up to face King’s Landing. She had been standing here for quite a while, watching the bustling city go about its usual routine, and hoping to see if any more men have managed to come back from the battle that commenced earlier that day.

“It _is_ powerful” she said, smiling gently “That title has been used to name a khal’s wife, but I managed to redefine the meaning behind it. A khaleesi is a woman who is capable of leading a khalasar even without a khal to support her”

He was merely looking at her as she explained, but he can see right through it. The sadness and longing never left her eyes. When he focused his gaze on her hands, they were grasping the balcony tightly.

“You are worrying over nothing” observed Tyrion sharply

“Is it nothing?” she countered almost a little desperately “If it was truly nothing, they’d… _he’d_ …be here already”

“Standing here and waiting won’t suddenly make Mormont return to you any faster” Tyrion sighed “Why don’t you join everyone in the throne room? You have managed to reunite families together. You should see what you have done for the people”

She shook her head.

“No to seeing the good you’ve done?” he asked, surprised. “If I may be so frank with you—”

“You may not” she said, cutting him off “I have grown tired of your counsel, Lord Tyrion. Everything I put my mind into sounds wrong to you. Tell me, am I always bound by wrong decisions or are you just compelled to counter everything with an opposition?”

“Everyone is bound by wrong decisions” her right hand answered “But everyone is bound by right ones, too. And my opposition does not indicate anything except genuine concern for your welfare and the welfare of the people”

Daenerys was barely listening. Her eyes were scanning the streets of King’s Landing, watching signs of horses making its way to the castle. Alas, no such thing occurred among the streets.

“Your grace?” Tyrion said, “You are distracted”

She sighed in resignation before turning back to him “What were you saying?”

“What you did today: reuniting families, providing justice after trial, is just the start to a promising rule under a new regime. This is what you have wanted for so long. Why are you not filled with enthusiasm at these very notions?”

“Because at this moment, I want nothing more than to see Jorah and Jon Snow come back to me safe and sound. Is it too much to ask?”

She had asked Greyworm earlier what had happened. The unsullied reported that they had covered everything on the battle plan, just as Jorah instructed. But when the unsullied started releasing the hostages, more brotherhood started coming and their troops divided.

Jon Snow had ordered Greyworm to bring back the hostages as well as the captured criminals before the queen while they stay back and kill the remaining ones.

She can only shake her head in dismay. Half of her thought of flying there herself to scan the forest for her knight. But it might only make matters worse.

“I never should have allowed them to go” she sighed, “Every second of their absence makes me worry even more”

Tyrion cannot stand seeing the queen look this pitiful as she looked so distraught. He can only look at her with sympathy.

Watching her now, his suspicions managed to heighten. Over the course of many days, something was amiss with Jorah Mormont and his queen. And these were the kind of suspicions that could potentially sabotage an already fortified northern alliance.

“Waiting here won’t do anyone any good” he said gently. When she paid no heed to what he said, he offered his hand to her.

“What’s this?”

“Come with me to the throne room, your grace”

Daenerys looked at Tyrion, the face of reason and counsel. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she has allowed her weakness to win again. Maybe the others were merely taking their time getting back. Tyrion was right. Of course he was.

So she took his hand albeit hesitantly, and he continued “The families want to extend their gratitude to you in person. As your right hand, I think you should do right and receive them with kindness”

The queen gave one last look at the view, one last scan on the streets before turning her back and letting Tyrion lead her into the throne room.

~

Jon Snow rode his horse as fast as he humanly could, hair whipping behind him and his eyes watering from the strong force of wind. Jorah Mormont was strapped behind him, bleeding and unconscious. And possibly…

_No_.

He refused to think of the inevitable conclusion. The queen would not be pleased if she knew that the knight’s life was slipping away.

It was something that nobody foresaw. An arrow man rained down arrows upon arrows in his last desperate attempt to subdue the queen’s fighters. Jon Snow had called out a warning to his new friend, but was too late when he witnessed an arrow pierce Jorah Mormont in the torso.

Jon cursed under his breath.

For the many weeks of his stay in the Red Keep he had noticed something between the queen and this particular knight. He recalled how his brothers continually teased him of being clueless about queues and hints about relationships when he was much younger, when everything had been perfect and the family he loved were blissfully unaware of the dark times ahead.

But Jon Snow knew he was not that dense. The king in the north had felt the tension, trust and deep-rooted companionship that was shared between Mormont and the queen. This had been a factor that made him think twice about marrying Daenerys. He knew he could never compete with that.

He stole a quick glance at the bleeding man on his horse. Still unconscious and unmoving.

Following behind him were his loyal northern men, their horses catching up to him as fast as they could. Jon Snow maneuvered the rein he was gripping on his palms, willing his horse to go faster. He wanted so much to wipe that drop of sweat falling on his temple. But he didn’t stop.

Nothing was going to make him stop until he reached the queen.

~

She was back in her quarters as Missandei brushed her hair. She never cared to say it out loud, but having her hair brushed calmed her immensely. The chaos in her chest had dulled for a fragment, as she closed her eyes and sat quietly at the foot of her bed.

She had sent off the saved hostages earlier, talking to the grateful families in an assuring voice and noted Tyrion’s approval from the corner of her eyes. This was her as the queen. And now that she was done with her proper duties, she retreated back into the body of a child, wanting to curl up and seek for comfort.

“Your grace―” her friend started

Every brush stroke felt like her mother’s hand caressing her head with the warmth of love. She wanted to forget about her existence being associated as the queen. She wanted to disappear for a moment and leave behind all of it: Every pain, anxiety and heartache that this mission had cost her.

“Let us not talk” Daenerys replied, her eyes still closed, she wanted to stay inside her bubble of madness for just a minute longer. She was _mad, mad, mad._ And her heart ached tremendously.

For a split second, she wished they were back in Essos, with him by her side.

“As you wish, my queen”

Daenerys wanted to lull herself to sleep. She had enough for today and was almost sure that when she wakes, her knight would be there to greet her, injured and perhaps bloodied. She would scold him, but wouldn’t be able to conceal her relief. And they would be again together, safely inside the castle so long as they lived.

A knock roused her from her dazed state. But even before she could say a word, Tyrion let himself in. He was panting terribly with a somber look on his face.

The queen’s heart dropped. She stood up immediately, yanking the brush away from her hair and said in a voice that was almost not hers, “Is he―?”

“Gravely injured, your grace. Jon Snow rode with him here as fast as he could. They just arrived in the castle grounds—”

Daenerys ran.

~

Tyrion ran after the dragon queen. The walls gave the dull echo of her hurried footsteps as she breezed through every chamber and room to get to the castle grounds. Her men scurried after her, falling into step with her as they made their way out.

He’d caught the side of her face as she ran and he saw the wetness on her cheeks for a moment. Every single person knelt when they saw her run past them, before giving her a curious look for being out of character.

Tyrion was out of breath but still he ran, too many steps behind her. He wanted to yell out after her to calm down, to be rational, but he believes himself to be too out of breath.

Finally, when the grounds loomed closer and he caught site of Jon Snow laying a body down, his running slowed to a walk, his eyes disbelieving what it was he saw: Jorah Mormont terribly covered in his own blood, an arrow poking out from his stomach. His eyes were closed, faced relaxed. He continued not to move.

He refused to accept that this very knight whom he had been bickering with, who almost looked invincible with his armor, who looked proud and honored to stand and protect the queen he loves, now looked nothing like who he’d been.

Jon Snow bowed before the queen “He lost a lot of blood. I rode here as quick as I could”

Tyrion watched as Daenerys knelt before the body on the ground.

“No…” she sobbed “No…no…no. _NO!”_

Her white robes muddied and bloodied, black and red.

Tyrion watched her cling to Jorah’s neck like a sobbing child and even then, the knight did not move. He watched her whisper something in his ears, in anguish as if she was scolding him. She rocked his body back and forth, begging him to open his eyes for her.

The castle was silent before her, watching how she changed from a dragon-mounting queen to something human.

Finally, Tyrion watched her check Jorah’s pulse and her face contorting into a false hope.

“Call every Maester!” the queen yelled, tears streaming down her face “NOW!”

Everyone scurried to her heed and nearly tripped themselves to find all the maesters while Tyrion watched Daenerys transform in his very eyes.

Today, she was not a queen.

Today, she was simply a woman mourning over a possibly dead man—the man who truly loved her for who she was and who she’d become.

~

 

 

Author’s Note: Hold your horses. There _will_ be an epilogue. I am not that cruel.

                                                                 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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